


The Prince and the Touga

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Fairytales [5]
Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-, Togainu no Chi
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arena, Asphyxiation, Awkward Sex, Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Betrayal, Blood Magic, Bonding, Bratty Behavior, Broken Bones, Caning, Cat Ears, Child Abuse, Choices, Choking, Discipline, Doubt, Fairy Tale Elements, Fear, Fighting, First Time, Flogging, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pairing, Forced Relationship, Frottage, Graphic Description, Grooming, Intimidation, Jesus I have it our for Bardo now, Konoe is a spoiled brat, Konoe is stronger than we think he is, M/M, Martinet punishment, Massage, More Submission, Necromancy, Neko Version of Togainu No Chi character, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, OOC Konoe, OOC Rai, Paddling, Parental Abuse, Parental Issues, Playful Sex, Playing, Power Bottom, Public Humiliation, Public whipping, Punishment, Really Really Non-Con, Relationship Negotiation, Sanctioned Abuse, Sexual Violence, Showers, Sneaking Out, Submission, Switching, Thank Gods Leaks is a Sorcerer, The Princess and the Pea Elements, Throwing fits, Unusually fast healing, Violence, Whipping, because I can’t help myself, betrothal, incubus, let’s see how many fanfics I can write for this fandom, more really non-con sex, possible death, rough grooming, sex while incapacitated, therapeutic writing, writing as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-08-08 04:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 123,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16422674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: Along the lines of my last couple fairy tales, I’m offering yet another a multi-chapter story set in a fantasy medieval world. In this alternate universe, Shui is the king of Sisa, which he rules alongside his lover, Leaks. They’ve indulged Shui’s son Konoe for many years. Konoe is a beautiful and talented young Sanga, destined to be a prince—but he’s a little spoiled—and very clueless as to his destiny.He has yet to pair with a Touga, and the concept frightens him. Shui has invited five of the surrounding kingdoms’ best Tougas to their castle for a celebration, at the end of which one will become Konoe’s life partner and Sisa’s valuable new ally. The story opens the evening before the first day—all Touga suitors are present—and Konoe is refusing to take part in the ceremonies, not wishing to give up his freedom for the sake of “some meathead he’s never even met.”Fairy tale is very loose retelling of Princess and the Pea—kinda.There may be violence and non-con stuff in this story, so be forewarned. I’ll be adding to the tags as necessary. The universe is partly inspired by Empressing’s universe in Silver Rings, which I suggest you check out! (Thanks for the inspiration!) :)





	1. Submission—An introduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Empressing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empressing/gifts), [MistressArachnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressArachnia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Silver Rings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16381307) by [Empressing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empressing/pseuds/Empressing). 
  * Inspired by [The Devil and the Touga](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150078) by [Nicole Premier (MistressArachnia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressArachnia/pseuds/Nicole%20Premier). 



“Konoe, this pains me more than I can say,” my dad is saying.

I don’t believe him. I cannot believe him. In my entire sixteen cycles, he’s never raised a hand to me, so why does he think he needs to do so now?

“You’re of age. You’re more than talented—you’re the most promising Sanga in your class. And you’re the prince. You must set an example. You do not have a choice.”

“Father, I refuse,” I set my lip stubbornly, glancing up at my stepfather, though I’m addressing my red-haired father, who is speaking softly and gently to me with tears in his eyes. “Why are you doing this, if it pains you so? Let me off, just one more cycle! I’m just not _ready_! I don’t want some meathead telling me what to do—I mean, Dad, _you_ don’t even have a Touga—you have a magician! I’m sure you of _all_ people can understand!” 

I glance into the golden eyes of my stepfather, who is enraged. He’s angry that I will not submit to their request of being courted. It’s the tradition in my kingdom of Sisa for the prince—if he is a Sanga, like I am—to be courted by the most talented Tougas from other kingdoms when he comes of age. I am now of age. They held a lavish celebration for me—a party unlike any this country had seen in the last century. I drank and danced the night away—swept off my feet—enjoyed myself to the fullest. After that experience of freedom, the _last_ thing I want is some asshole telling me what to do in my own kingdom!

“Konoe,” Papa Leaks looks at me sternly. “You are acting as though you have a choice in the matter. But the fact is, your suitors have already arrived. They are expecting courtly behavior from you: your company, your best attitude, your best manners. You are to consider with whom you want to spend the rest of your life and with whom you are most compatible. This is not only for your own good but also for the good of the kingdom. It’s why you were born.”

I sigh and roll my eyes, and then soften my face and look to my biological father, desperation in my eyes.

“Please, Dad! I just want my freedom—the freedom to find my own way and fall in love!”

“This celebration won’t prevent you from doing so, Konoe,” Dad answers, his voice still soft and gentle, pushing a strand of hair behind his shoulder. That long red hair definitely has a mind of its own today. “Please—let's do this the easy way.” 

“Either way, it’s _going_ to happen,” Papa Leaks threatens.

“So you plan to beat me till I comply with your demands?” I spit out the words angrily.

“Shui—you’ve spoiled him,” Papa looks at Dad, disappointment apparent on his face. I hate his judgmental look—he is impossible to please, and he has Dad wrapped around his finger! I’m sure this “discipline” thing was _his_ idea. “Konoe, I don’t want to do this, either—but what does it say about our kingdom if the prince won’t obey his own fathers' commands?" 

“Konoe, please,” Dad begs, “there are only five of them. They are here to woo you—all five are competing for your love and affection for the sake of their kingdoms. Your beauty is well known throughout the land, as is your talent as a Sanga—and if they could bring home an alliance, they would be delighted. You have nothing to lose!”

I look away. I _do_ have something to lose—a _big_ thing—my virginity—and from what I’ve heard from my fellow Sangas, Tougas are rough and entitled, and _I_ am a prince. I will _not_ be handled that way! _I will not!_

“I refuse!” I yell, digging my heels in.

Both my parents sigh, exchanging sorrowful glances. 

“Shui, you should leave now. I’m sorry it's come to this, but I’ll give our son the loving attitude adjustment he needs,” Papa Leaks growls.

Like hell, I think, trying to scurry from the room, but something trips me. I may be beautiful—the people cheer for me in the streets, calling me the most beautiful creature in the world. It's said my beauty rivals any female. I have a nice face, a petite shapely form—especially my hips and butt, which I've learned to sway deliberately when I walk—a lovely plush coat of pure white fur, the tips dipped in golden caramel on my ears and tail, and unruly golden blonde hair that I’ve grown out past my shoulders. I always wear a crown to accent my good looks—gold seems to accent my beautiful honey-colored eyes the best, I think. However, as beautiful and as talented as I am, I am a _little_ bit of a klutz. 

However, that _isn’t_ why I trip today. I’m actually tripped because Papa Leaks has restrained me with magic. Glowing ropes entangle my ankles and slowly drag me across the floor back toward where he is waiting.

“No!” I cry out. “Please don’t do this!” Yes, I’m a little dramatic since my father Shui is still in the room, and I know I can usually talk or cry my way out of anything. I haven't given up yet! 

Dad walks over to me, as I’m still struggling my glowing bonds. 

“Honey, I’m sorry it’s come to this. I feel responsible. You won’t submit today because I wasn’t strict enough when you were younger. But you _must_ do this. Your prospective partners are expecting you tomorrow, so there is no way to avoid them. As soon as you agree to greet them and meet with your first suitor, the beating will cease. I assure you, they are kind and nice cats, all of them. There is really no need for you to fuss like this! _You_ have all the control here, my child.” He strokes my ears and hair while he speaks calmly, tears in his eyes.

“Dad—no—I can’t— _please_ —don’t do this—he will _hurt_ me—damage me—Dad!—Don't leave me!” I scream at his retreating figure, his layered capes of green, gold and orange leaving the room. “Dad!" 

My body is lifted and bent over the arm of a plush chair. My arms are restrained in front of my body, my toes barely touching the floor, and my butt is on display. Papa Leaks is really serious about this! He doesn’t speak for a few minutes, simply watching me struggle, pointlessly, waiting for me to calm down. I cannot move much, but that doesn't prevent me from trying. Perhaps he is waiting for me to change my mind and submit.

“Have you regained your self-control, little one?” Papa asks, his voice gentle. “I don’t want to do this, but I don’t have any other choice.”

“Just send them away! Tell them I’m not ready to be courted!” I yell.

“Konoe, you know from your lessons that Sisa needs an ally right now. And these suitors have the resources we need for our people and our land. _Stop_ thinking about your own needs and think like the prince you are! Setsura is a wealthy land. Ransen is a land of merchants. Kira is a land of warriors. Karou is filled with natural resources we could use for food and fuel. The Meigi are rich in ancient sorcery and magic. An alliance with _any_ of those countries would benefit us. You need to grow up—stop acting like an entitled selfish brat and play your part as the royal prince of Sisa!” 

“I _refuse_! I don’t _want_ to—I don’t want some asshole I’ve never met pushing me around, putting his hands on me and telling me what to do! And you—you put the idea of beating me into submission into Dad’s head, didn’t you? Well, I’ve got news for you! It’s _not_ going to work! _None_ of it is going to work!” Since I’m yelling into the cushion of the chair, my voice is muffled and my throat is starting to get a little sore. I’m _pissed_! And I'm exhausting myself. 

“Really? Konoe, you _are_ a beautiful young kitten and a talented Sanga. But you must learn respect and humility. And you _will_ learn to submit to your parents today.” His voice is low and threatening.

To my utter shame, my pants are unbuttoned and pulled down to my knees, along with my underwear, in a single swift motion, exposing the entire lower half of my body. I don’t feel hands on me, so it must have been magic.

“Ah! What are you doing?” A soft protest comes out of my mouth, my cheeks burning in shame—even my ears are hot. This is _humiliating_! I can't stand this! I'm the  _prince_ , for gods' sake! "You can't  _do_ this to me!"

“Konoe, my child, if you will agree to meet with your suitors tomorrow, we won't _have_ to do anything to you. This all in your hands.” Papa's voice actually does sound sad, I have to admit. If he's so sad, he can just stop this, can't he?!

“No way!” I shout, getting my voice back and trying to kick my legs. The only thing my struggle does is expose even more of my bare skin. And it also rubs my groin against the chair lewdly, which makes me feel a little funny, so I stop right away.

“I’m sorry, my son. This hurts me much more than it does you. All you have to do is let me know when you are ready to submit to the king’s wishes, and the whipping will stop.”

Wait—did he say _whipping_? Gods—wait! Fear courses through me when I feel a soft, tender touch to my ears—his hand, I think—and then I hear a loud snap. 

As it turns out, the snap is the sound of a belt, whipping through the air and making contact with my bare, unprotected, delicate skin. My ears twitch backward at the sound first—before I feel it—the sound is terrifying in itself, sending a shock of fear through my body. 

But then pain registers. And oh, my gods—does it _hurt_! It’s a burning, stinging pain—not only in the precise area where the belt made contact but quickly spreading to surrounding areas.

Tears immediately spring to my eyes, and I let out a howl. My body jolts in surprise and shock and then shivers from the pain spread around my hips. But my ears have already registered the second swish and snap of the belt—and it hits me again—slightly lower this time —the fullest part of my ass—and my skin jiggles upon contact.

Another howl of pain rips from my mouth, and the tears spill over instantly. I’m unable to catch my breath. I try to get away, but I’m firmly restrained. 

“Submit, child,” Papa says softly. “You only need to spend a single day and night with each suitor—and who knows, maybe one will end up your loving life partner. You may even fall in love.”

Swish—snap—and another scream tears from my mouth. 

“No!” I yell over my tears, but truthfully, I’m _ready_ to submit. My body can’t take this abuse. Have my fathers really agreed to this whipping as an acceptable method to punish me into submission? This is simply cruelty! I’ve _never_ been treated this way—why would they resort to physical punishment this late in my life? Is it really _so_ important that I obey them in this?

My tail fluffs out and my claws draw, grabbing the furniture with everything I have, trying to withstand the pain from the fourth and fifth blows—but I am openly crying now.

“Submit, stubborn child!” Papa is sounding a little desperate, as he continues the whipping. “How will you explain these welts to your suitors? You don’t want them to get any ideas of how _they_ might treat you, do you?”

My ears twitch a little at that though—as the seventh and eighth whips come down brutally and I scream and cry and wail. Wait—my _suitors_ might whip me? No—please! _No_!

“I submit!” I cry out, just as the tenth blow smacks right against my sit spot, sending odd shivers through my body in addition to a vicious, searing pain. All the blood pooling in my waist has caused another embarrassing change to my body below my waist—and I find myself half hard from this brutal whipping. I’m so ashamed I could just  _die_.

I burst into tears, but Papa walks over to me immediately. He leaves me just as I am—exposed, naked, vulnerable, allowing me a few moments to collect myself while I weep loud and long.

“So you finally submit. Tell me what you will do tomorrow, then. How will you behave, starting with when you wake?” I feel his hand gently stroking my ears.

I take a few very shaky deep breaths before I begin, my voice quivering, tears still flowing from my eyes.

“I will get up when you and father tell me and meet with the suitors whenever you like.” 

“At breakfast,” Papa answers, gently stroking my ears. 

“Then at breakfast. I will be polite, show my most courtly manners, and be the prince I’ve been raised to be.” 

“A _better_ prince than you’ve been raised to be,” corrects Papa softly.

Lowering my ears humbly, I change my wording, “I will be a _better_ prince. I will spend time with the first suitor and I will have an open mind.”

“Konoe, _that_ is what I want to hear. If you do not behave in a way that makes our kingdom look good, we will _repeat_ tonight’s lesson, as much as it pains us both. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I say miserably. My ass is stinging so much—I just want to rub out the pain.

“Good. Now let me treat these welts. You will skip the banquet tonight because of your rebelliousness. Go to your room for the rest of the evening to consider the future—yours and that of the kingdom.”

“But Papa—it’s my last night of freedom!” I whine. 

A light stinging smack radiates on my swollen skin and I yelp loudly. It _hurts_ —even that _light_ smack with his hand hurts like hell!

“You will _obey_ me without complaint. I want you to _obey_ what I say, and I want you to stop wheedling your father when things don’t go your way. You sound like a brat—and entitled bratty kitten whose had everything he’s ever wanted, handed to him on a silver platter! It’s time to take responsibility for your own behavior and grow up!”

Papa leaves me for a moment, then returns, and I hear him opening a jar. A cool cream touches my ass—and I sigh and shiver with relief. The ointment soothes my welted skin immediately. He doesn't rub it in, though, only applies it topically to the surface and lets it sit on top of the welts.

"I'm sorry it came to this, my dear son," he murmurs softly. "You are our precious child, and we only want what is best for you. You need to learn obedience and humility, or our kingdom will not survive."

Finally, he removes my restraints.

Before he excuses me, he says, “Konoe, is there anything you’d like to tell me before you retire?”

I am relieved to be free from those restraints. The fabric of my underwear burns against the welts on my tender skin, and I wince when I pull them up, trying to be a little modest. I am never nude before any other person in this kingdom, not even my staff. It is the rule here. 

“Um, I’m very sorry for my rebellious behavior earlier?” My voice is still quivering with tears.

“And?”

“Thank you for taking the time to show me the correct way to lead our kingdom?”

“And?”

“I will do my best to make both you and Dad proud tomorrow?” 

“That is fine. Konoe. I honestly believe you have a good, pure heart, which will serve our kingdom well in the future. Use your skill wisely, and you will find a Touga who will complement your gifts, protect you and our kingdom, and become an invaluable asset.”

I nod and then wait for him to excuse me. He takes a deep breath.

“You may be excused.” 

I scurry out the door. When I push it open—oh, my gods—there are half a dozen servants standing around in the hallway—waiting at the door! They’ve been listening! I am devastated and embarrassed.

Feeling my fur bristle and my face blush, I can hear them murmuring as I hurry past them to my private quarters.

“Can you _believe_ that? His first physical punishment at _this_ age!”

“It’s no wonder he’s turned out so entitled and bratty!”

“He’s so sweet to look at, but wow—he’s got some bite!” 

“What I wouldn’t give to actually see that shapely ass of his jiggle under the smack of a belt! I wonder if he will make a public spectacle of himself tomorrow? My gods! We could sell tickets!”

Filled with shame, blushing a bright red all the way to the tips of my ears—and my ass burning in a matching shade, I’m sure—I rush to my room in a run. I pull open the door and slam it behind me, collapsing face down on my bed.

My clothes are hurting me—I need to remove them—but I’m exhausted—and I burst into tears. I’m not just crying. I’m sobbing, loud, wailing tears that wrack my entire body. I feel broken, trapped—and I hate my life. I hate my parents—I hate being a Sanga—I hate being a prince. I will have to live the rest of my life under the thumb of someone else—someone larger than me, stronger than me. That person will be able to subjugate me whenever and however he wishes. It's not fair! 

I know I’m nice to look at. I get lots of comments and remarks and have also been the subject of unwanted touching, despite my status as royalty—some cats will still touch me if they don’t know who I am.

I throw my crown on the floor in a fit of rage—but I’m not really mad. No—I’m _hopeless_. I don’t _want_ to be surrounded by cats fawning over me, wanting to touch me. And this week, I will be expected to put out—both in my song and with my body—as a trial run, to see if we are compatible. With _five_ different suitors. I want to throw up!

I’m dreading it. 

I’d rather have another whipping than be subjected to that! It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it! 

When Dad has talked to me about it, he says it _can_ hurt if your partner is inexperienced or if you are not well-prepared, but it feels good if you are prepared and your partner pays attention to your needs. He said not to worry since these Tougas want an alliance with me, so they will work hard to please me. But I haven't heard any details about how it's supposed to work!

I don’t believe him. I don’t trust _any_ of them. 

But now—after tonight—I realize I don’t have a choice. I may not even _get_ to choose. My parents may choose for me! And I might get stuck with some sadistic asshole who likes to whip me for the rest of my life.

My tears won’t stop flowing, but eventually, I can’t take the pain anymore, so I slowly stand up. I slip off my clothes, leaving them carelessly on the floor. I have servants who will clean up after me later, so I don't give a shit. I pull on a pair of silver silk pajamas—just the long top tonight, leaving my bottom barely covered, and I open the sliding door and sneak out to the garden outside for some fresh air. My room is lit with guiding leaves instead of fire because I am afraid of fire. Right now, the room has a soft green glow, but outside, the moon is shining silver, making the garden appear a gorgeous blue in contrast to my room.

As I look out past my private area, I see someone I don’t recognize walking slowly around the pond. He’s tall— _very_ tall and slender, but very nicely built—and he isn’t facing me. He has pretty long silver hair cascading down his back, nearly to his waist. I see him push his hair over his shoulder, and even from this far away, I can see the muscle definition in his arms. He must be one of the guest Tougas. He has a nice ass, great legs—and all that beautiful shimmering hair.

I think he’s skipping rocks into the pond. Hmm. I wonder if _he_ doesn’t want to be here, either. What if _none_ of these guys want me—and they are _all_ here because their families require them to be here? What would connecting with someone like that be like? They wouldn’t care about pleasing me—and they’d treat me roughly, wouldn’t they? My gods, look at the size of that guy! Even as pretty as he is, my heart sinks into my stomach and I feel sick again.

I don’t know what to do, so I head back to bed after pouring a drink of water from the carafe at the side of my bed. I’m so ashamed. The entire castle will be gossiping about my whipping by morning. I just hope none of the Tougas hear about it. That would be _devastating_ —as well as dangerous. Who knows what they will do to me when we are alone? 

I curl up on my belly, keeping my lower half open to the free air. It takes a long time, but I do eventually drift off to sleep. I just cannot _believe_ my parents actually beat me into submission, and they threatened to do it again if I don’t behave myself tomorrow. I just hope they don’t do it publicly.


	2. Introductions—the Setsuran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes the next morning, sore as hell, and only partly ready to face his day full of suitors. He knows he will have to spend the entire day with one of them and will be introduced to the first one today.
> 
> His entire world has turned upside down in less than 24 hours--and he is learning the hard way that he can't get what he wants. 
> 
> He has his servant help him decide what to wear and limps down to breakfast, where he behaves himself as best he can.

In the morning, I feel just a little bit more like myself. My skin is still very tender, and after bathing carefully—my quarters are top notch—only the best for the prince—I have a private bathing area attached right to my room—I apply a little salve to the welts I can reach and use a mirror for the rest. They stand out, red and pink, obvious and bright from my pale skin. While I usually have assistance with dressing in the mornings—and I should today, too, since I’m meeting all those suitors for the first time, I get started on my own. I woke early since I went to bed early.

Eventually, my usual servant appears. He’s a little older than me. I am careful to cover myself this morning—sitting in my robe and underwear to hide those welts—which I’m sure he notices, but he doesn’t dare say anything.

“Good morning, Prince Konoe,” the blonde cat says. Jacques is a friendly cat, and he is good looking in his own right. He’s taken care of me since I can remember, but he’s an awful gossip. “You’re up bright and early this morning.”

“Yes, I called it an early night last night. I am was worried about meeting these suitors,” all of which, of course, is true. I’m sitting in front of my mirror, combing out my hair, trying to keep the pressure off my butt, in a subtle way. 

“Have you decided on an outfit you’d like to wear?” Jacques asks.

“I’ll leave it to you,” I say. “You’re so good at that kind of thing.” I don’t say that out of flattery—but possibly out of laziness. He makes my life so much easier. 

It’s only moments before he brings me an appropriate costume, and I barely register what it is while he starts dressing me. He slips on my blouse first, and I am so glad I dressed in my underwear already. Those welts—damn it—they hurt so much even this morning. However, he dresses me gently, so I think he must have heard about that whipping already, and is just not asking about it, for which I am extremely grateful.

“We want you looking your best—making a good first impression is important, your grace,” he says quietly. “You look gorgeous in cream and ivory, accented with gold and red.” 

The outfit he has chosen is lavish and lovely—and I can wear it without looking overdressed. It looks expensive without being gaudy. Silk brocade with a little velvet trim—like a prince should dress. I’ll simply remove the doublet to when we are ready to sing and fight, and I should be good to go.

I feel sick to my stomach already. In about twelve hours, I will be expected to test the bonds of a new relationship with one of those Tougas. More specifically, I will be letting them sample _me_. I shiver with revulsion and fear.

Jacques turns me to face the mirror and has me examine myself, and I feel my body trembling with terror. I’m not afraid of _anything_ —or I haven’t ever been before—but _this_ process terrifies me. They are throwing me to the wolves and I’m going to be eaten alive—and unless I haven’t been told something vital about this process, I may be in terrible pain tomorrow. 

“Jacques,” I ask, keeping my voice low. “This process—have you witnessed it before?”

“This process... ah, the Touga selection, you mean? I haven’t, your grace,” he answers. “But you are doing this for the good of your people—for people like me—and not just for yourself. We are so proud of you. Those Tougas will be bowled over by your beauty and will want to fight for the power you wield as a Sanga—as long as you are able to sing for them, and they will fight for you, tooth and nail. You’re the complete package. You have nothing to be afraid of, sire.” He smiles brightly. 

“Why am I so nervous?” 

“Well, isn't every bridegroom a little nervous the first time he lays eyes in his partner for the first time?” Then, he rests a hand on my arm—which comforts me as much as it makes me flinch. “Konoe, sire, make sure you let them know _you_ hold power in your hands. You have the freedom and authority to make demands. If they ask you to do something you don’t want to do, simply _tell_ them what you want instead. If you act like you hold the cards in the bedroom, you actually _do_ hold the cards in the bedroom.”

“I see,” I whisper, putting my hand on top of his for a moment.

“Don’t be afraid. You’ve got this. Let me help you with your boots."

Over silk stockings, my knee high soft brown leather boots are pulled on—but I have to sit back down to do this—and it hurts. But I can handle it. I will do this for the sake of my family and my country—and for the sake of my people, just like Jacques.

He rests an understated gold circlet on my head, but today—I shake my head.

“Let’s wear a hat today,” I suggest. He tops my head with a soft floppy hat, in a tan velvet trimmed with a white feather. It rests easily between my ears, accenting them perfectly.

Checking my appearance for the last time in front of the mirror, I look like a prince—less jeweled than usual, but that’s the impression I want to make. I practice a bow or two, try a few smiles—a soft smile, a welcoming smile, and a sexy smile—if I find a cat I like. I am curious about that cat with the long silver hair. I realize I limp just a little when I walk, and I wince if I sit down too fast, but you wouldn’t notice unless you observed me a lot. I’m glad my eyes didn’t swell from the tears I cried last night. I’ve been blessed like that. 

After a deep breath, I strut out of my quarters, down to the dining room, even a few minutes earlier than I promised. I’m in dire need of some tea and food since I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday. Can you imagine? A prince of my age, sent to bed without dinner? It's shameful, and I blush a little in embarrassment.

The sentries at the doors are thrown open, and I am announced formally when I make my entrance—a few moments before I was scheduled to arrive. To my surprise, it looks like my suitors are already seated at their tables, but they stand up to greet me, bowing their heads politely.

"Please, take your seats," I say nervously.

Dad greets me and takes my arm.

“You look smashing, Konoe. I trust you slept well?” I bow lowly to him—which is out of character, I know, but in character for the obedient prince I am playing—and he kisses me and pulls me back to my feet.

The dining room is set with five different tables—a strange way to set the room—without a table for me. I usually sit at a table on the dais, overlooking everyone else, but it looks like I will be joining today's suitor for breakfast. I swallow thickly. That decreases my appetite. From there, I will suggest a few things he might enjoy doing today. The idea is to bond, and if we can and bond well in a few days time.

“Honey, your hands are trembling,” Dad whispers to me. “Don’t worry—I’ve spoken at length to all of these men, and they are all eager to meet you.”

When I look up, meeting the faces of these Tougas, all five pairs of their eyes are on me. I can’t help wondering what they are thinking. None of them have any obvious visual flaws that I can see. 

“Come, I’ll introduce you quickly to all of them, and then, you can have breakfast with your first suitor. I'm sure you must be hungry.” I’m dragged along behind Dad, and I see Papa Leaks watching in the corner. The sight of him standing there, watching, waiting for me to rebel, infuriates me. Would he really consider whipping me—here—if I tripped up? The look in his eye says he would. But Dad is overly excited.

He drags me to the far side of the room first.

“Konoe, this is Tokino of Karou. He is from a long line of merchant families and he is their first Touga. Karou has great resources for food and land.” I smile politely at the cat sitting at the table—and he offers a genuine smile—brighter than the moon of light, which surprises me—right back at me, with stunning blue eyes and a shock of red hair.

“I’ve been longing to meet you, your grace,” Tokino stands up and bows gracefully. He is slender but his upper body is built rather sturdily. Of course, he is taller and broader than me. “Thank you for having me.” He peeps up at me through long auburn lashes, and I can’t help returning that smile.

Dad directs me to the next table, where a severe-looking cat sits. He is all black—dark skin, black fur, dark hair, and he makes no movements. However, he stands up and moves away from the table, walking over to me when we approach. To my surprise, he takes my hand in his, kneeling before me. When he looks up, deep blue eyes—the color of the ocean—gaze back into my face.

“Ah, this is Asato of Kira, the land of great warriors. He has spoken of nothing but meeting you since his arrival.”

“Your grace, your beauty has not been exaggerated and is greater than anyone has described,” he says quietly. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance." His voice is gentle and soft—so different from how he moved so suddenly.

“I-I...” Temporarily flustered, I do not know how to answer. “Um, thank you.” It’s lame, but an appropriate response and Papa nods his head in satisfaction. I’m relieved. I feel slightly uncomfortable around so much attention, so I nod and move on.

Bardo is an older tiger-striped cat from Ransen, at least compared to these young Tougas. Ransen is where all the merchants are. Bardo gives me a smile and an obvious once-over, dragging his eyes up and down my body. I feel like I should give a little twirl so he can check out my ass, too. It’s my best asset, I’ve been told. I wonder if he has already had several partners, and what happened them? What is a guy his age even doing here? He's got to be in his mid-twenties, at least?

However I remain polite and bow, then move to the Meigi’s table. The cat sitting there is somber, black hair, black ears, very pale skin. His eyes look red. He looks at me appraisingly, and to my shock and horror, he licks his lips! I’m too close to ignore it, and a small gasp comes out of my mouth. A shiver crawls up my spine. He frightens me. 

“This is Shiki. He’s from the magical Meigi tribe. They also have a lot to offer us, you see,” Dad says. He is pretending he _didn’t_ just see that guy lick his lips. He's really going to let this cat touch me? Have his way with me? I cringe inwardly, trying to push the thoughts from my mind, but I can't—not with those eyes looking at me that way! Shiki is a huge cat, too, tall and broad, rivaling Bardo from Ransen, much bigger than the breeds from Sisa. I wonder if Dad also had to go through such an ordeal in order to get where he is today. Is that how he can be so light-hearted?

“Last but not least, this is your first suitor, the cat with whom you will be spending the day, and, ahem, evening." I really don't appreciate his little nudge. As if I could forget. I feel like he is saying, "Konoe, meet the cat who is going to steal your virginity from you without your consent! He has our blessing!" "This is Rai from Setsura. They are a land of wealth and a land of large breeds.”

The cat with the beautiful silver hair stands up, and I'm a little surprised to see that he has a gorgeous face—chiseled and perfect—and his eyes are pale blue, framed with long lashes. His ears are a strange shape, slightly rounded on the top of his head and smaller than mine, but both they and his tail are covered with luscious silky white long fur. I’ve never seen a long-haired cat, and he is beautiful. So far, he is the most attractive of the five. 

He stands up from his seat—and shit—he is _tall_ —nearly twice my height—and he looked slender from behind and from far away when I saw him last night, but he is _all_ muscle. I can see the muscles in his chest and abdomen ripple underneath his slim-fitting shirt. I’m delighted and a warm feeling fills my body.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say. “Call me Konoe.” 

“Likewise. I'm glad to be here, and Rai is fine,” he replies—his voice is deep but spoken softly, and it feels like he’s kissed my ear when the sound sinks into my ear. He comes around to my side of the table and pulls out my chair—isn’t this a servant’s job? But there are no servants here right now. And the effect of him doing this small thing for me is rather strange. As I sit down—gently and tenderly, so as not to disturb those welts I’ll be applying pressure to, but I fail, of course, and end up wincing just a tiny bit (he doesn’t notice since I’m facing away from him right now, I’m sure)—and he pushes my chair under the table, I feel like _he_ has served _me_ in some small way. I’ve interrupted his breakfast—yet he still chose to serve me. It’s odd, and it makes me feel a little special.

“Thank you,” I say. I am sitting across from in at the small table. And it _is_ a small table—sized for cats of those from my kingdom, not for those from his. His legs are obviously uncomfortable, I can’t help noticing. “And thank you for coming so far for this, er, celebration.”

“News of your talents and beauty are renowned across the world. I could hardly pass up the opportunity to compete for the chance to attend,” Rai says. I know from my studies that Setura is quite far east from Sisa, one of our furthest lying allies. I’d heard of these larger breeds of cats but had never seen one before. But wait—did he say _compete_?

“You—you had to _compete_ for the right to attend?” I ask nervously. A servant leaves us with pots of tea and coffee, along with fixings for both. “Would you like some coffee or our local tea?”

“I’ll try your local drink,” Rai answers.  
  
“With cream, sugar, or honey?” I ask, standing up to pour the drink into his cup. I’m trying to play the polite host, and also to assure this cat doesn’t end up raping me tonight. How do I even _do_ that? Show him kindness? Tenderness? Play the housewife? Will that make it worse, make him want to subdue me more? I don’t even know. I’m confused and a little desperate.

“However you think it tastes best,” Rai answers, watching me pour the steaming beverage into his cup. I add a little cream and a lot of honey—just as I take mine. This tea is a floral variety, and it has a delightful nose of spring all year round. 

I stir the honey and cream, place the cup and saucer in front of him, and take my own. I do not take a drink of mine before he tries a sip—it’s only polite—and a rather worried look crosses his face.

“Erm,” I say, as our conversation has stopped, and I see Papa looking over at our table. “So you said there was a competition to come here? I guess I assumed they sent their top royal Touga—but it never occurred to me as to how each country would determine such a thing.”

Rai picks up his cup and does a very strange thing. I wonder if he is allergic to milk or honey. I watch as he takes a sip—but he only _pretends_ to take a sip—a loud slurp—but he doesn’t actually drink anything. It looks very real, but I’m concerned. Does he hate the smell? Is he afraid of the ingredients? Does he think I may have poisoned him? What is it? Should I let him know he doesn’t _have_ to drink it?

However—now that he has pretended to take a sip, I too take a sip, and I slurp away happily, the sweet liquid spilling down my throat. It has the added effect of coating my throat in a lovely numbing sensation, probably from the eucalyptus, if I remember my lessons from Papa Leaks, and that helps soothe last night's aftereffects of crying. 

Holding his cup and saucer in his hand and blowing off the top of the steam—at least appearing to enjoy the fragrance of the tea, Rai holds his elegant nose over the top of the cup. Jeez—he is an attractive cat. Could I deal with him touching me? _Certainly_! I would love to dance with him. I hope I don’t lose privileges tonight and am permitted to stay for the dance tonight—being held in those muscular arms, which are shown off even beneath his tight-fitting leathers, holds an attraction to me. It’s just that _last_ part—of being taken and subjugated—that I don’t care to think about. Maybe if I take today one hour at a time, I can get through this? Perhaps if I drink a lot at the banquet and I won’t remember anything?

“Are you quite all right?” Rai asks, real concern flashing in his blue eyes. “Your hands are shaking.”

“Er, I’m fine,” and I can feel myself blushing. The tendency I have to blush at every little thing is the bane of my existence. It’s as if my emotions insist on showing themselves on my face, displaying themselves every chance they get. And the shaking of my hands, the clattering of my spoon and cup—even worse! “I’m only slightly nervous. I’ve, er, never done this sort of thing before, and I don’t know what to expect or how to behave.” 

“I see,” his voice softens even more. “Prince Konoe—I will say this as many times as it takes for you to understand. I am _not_ here to take anything except your heart. I will take nothing from you unless you freely give it. That is my purpose here. Do you understand what I am saying?” 

I look up from my tea, and his face is so earnest I _nearly_ believe him. But when has a Touga, when tempted with the true power of a Sanga, been able to resist? His instincts will kick in, and he won’t be able to hold himself back. I’m sure by the end of the night, he will be holding me down and violently…

Wait just a second. Why isn’t that thought revolting me as much as it did just moments earlier? Do I _want_ him to subjugate me? Does the idea of this beautiful cat holding me down and using me however he wishes actually turn me on? Thrill me? Excite me? What is _wrong_ with me? 

I remember the vision I saw of him last night—skipping rocks across the surface of our pond. I don’t want to think about me anymore. I want to know about _him._

“Tell me about the selection process,” I suggest, watching him take another pretend sip of tea. I try not to smile, but I sip mine and enjoy the heat warming me up from the inside out.

“In Setsura, there was a call for all Tougas who wished to meet with you—become your companion—to partake in a large melee.”  
  
“Wait—everyone? Not just royals?

“Patience, little one,” he smiles. “I’m getting there.”

Soundly chastised, I close my mouth and listen.

“Tougas from all over our country came—large and small, highly talented and those considered lucky, and even those simply wanting to try to change their lives. We held archery competitions, one-on-one sword fights, fencing matches, group battles, even tennis matches. We also attended banquets each night—as the King knew we would be representing Setsura here in Sisa. Those who failed at a match or misbehaved at a banquet were asked to leave. You never knew _what_ was a competition, either. Sometimes a mistake was made, and you had to work it out between several of your fighting companions, and the ones who lost their temper the first were asked to leave for their uncourtly manners.”

“That sounds incredibly rough,” I murmur. I don’t think I would have survived such a competition.

“Well, it is well known that you hold court and court manners highly. To impress, we needed to send our best fighter with the best courtly manners. And it seems I won that competition. I was offered a royal title for winning the competition.”

“You fit the bill perfectly,” I say admiringly. “I’ve never seen a Touga with as impeccable manners as yours.” 

“It’s only fitting to be in your company, sire.” Rai tips his head politely.

“Although…” I say thoughtfully, looking at his tea. “You know, if you don’t care for the tea, you really don’t have to drink it. Even if I made it, I wouldn't consider it impolite.”

Rai flashes me a surprisingly harsh look—which takes my breath away. Commanding and sharp, like I’ve said something I shouldn’t. But that is immediately replaced with his softer face.

“Ah—I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend. I’m enjoying the fragrance. And to be honest—and just between you and me…” he leans across the table (and he can lean so far since he is so tall) to whisper in my ears, “I am a little sensitive to heat. I’m merely waiting for the temperature to cool so I can enjoy it.”

“You have the cat’s tongue?” I whisper. I’ve heard of this—our ancestors didn’t cook with fire and were sensitive to heat—but this elegant Touga having the cat’s tongue? It’s such a strange juxtaposition. I quickly put a napkin in front of my mouth to cover my smile, but it’s too late. Rai does _not_ look pleased. “I’m sorry,” I beg. “I just—it’s just—so unexpected!”

“Is it? I’ve heard rumors about you as well, you know. I just thought it would be rude to discuss them at our first meeting, your _grace_.” Rai looks at me a little more sharply.

I sigh. “Probably every one of them is true—at least the ones about me being overindulged, spoiled, getting drunk out of my mind at my last birthday, and never being able to satisfy Papa Leaks,” I admit. 

“What about your inability to see in the dark?” Rai asks quietly.

That ruffles my fur, and it makes me angry. That is a sensitive point for me. Most Ribika can easily see in the dark, but night vision for me is practically non-existent! What the hell?

“Where did you hear that?”

“And a total lack of direction? How unusual, if you really are a Ribika,” Rai’s voice sounds teasing, rather than mean, however. But still—I’m _terribly_ sensitive about this weakness. I've been lost so many times it isn't funny.

“What?! Who _told_ you this?”

“And fire? Are you afraid of fire, as well? It’s another one of the ancient traits, carried in our genes, like the cat’s tongue,” Rai comments, finally taking a sip of his tea. I hope he burns his tongue! But damn, his lips are quite pretty. _Shit_. What is my problem? “Ah, this is quite delicious!”

“How did you even know about that?” I snap, and Papa looks over at my tone, so I soften my face into a thin smile. “I’ve never really told anyone about it.”

“I guessed,” Rai said. “I was wandering the grounds last night—found a gorgeous pond outside—and even more beautiful gardens, filled with meandering paths. I saw several rooms that opened up into those beautiful gardens. Only one was lit entirely with guiding leaves.”

“You intruded on my private gardens??” I hiss.

“They aren’t exactly marked, you know,” Rai keeps his voice even. “They are very beautiful. I’m sure you enjoy them year-round, even in the evenings.”

Shit—I slept with the door open last night!

“Exactly how close did you get to my room?” I ask, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.

“What do you mean?” He tilts just his eyes up to me, keeping his face pointed toward the floor. It's a suggestive sort of look.

“Did you see me sleeping? Did you? Did you watch me sleeping in my bed?” I insist, unsure if I really want to know, but unable to keep myself from asking.

“Well, I was right there, and the door was open. I peeked inside—the quarters were gorgeously decorated, I could hardly pass without taking a quick glance, and so odd-looking with their green glow. And I have excellent night vision. I saw a lovely, shapely creature sleeping soundly under a canopy of ivory and gold. I could only assume by the small stature that it was you.” 

I inhale sharply. Did he see the welts I’d left exposed to the air? That’s what I want to know. 

“Did you see…” I start, unable to continue. So I start again. “Did you see—?”

“Did I see _what_?” Rai asks, his tone suddenly gentle again.

He must have seen. I know he _must_ have seen!

I barely manage to suppress a growl, banging my now empty cup down on the table. To my surprise, however, Rai’s large hand reaches across and covers both my hands.

“I don’t say _any_ of this to embarrass you, Konoe. I want to get to _know_ you—I really want to know you better. And that includes both your strengths and your weaknesses. You have many strengths, and, like most cats, you prefer to hide your weaknesses, so a little sleuthing was required on my part.” His voice is soft and earnest—and I almost believe him. No—that’s wrong. My _heart_ believes him, but my mind is not convinced.

“How do I know you won’t use my fear of fire against me?”

“Why would I? Would you choose a Touga who frightened you? I haven’t come all this way to make you fear me—and yet—you _still_ fear me. I can scarcely touch your hand without feeling you flinch away. The last thing I want to do hurt you or make you suffer. My role is to protect you.” 

My heart gives a strange little flutter, much to my annoyance. 

“To answer your question, it seems to me you may not _want_ to be here. With me or with _any_ of us. You have some reluctance to this entire process. Am I right? I was wondering—is it fear? Or do you have your heart set on someone else, someone you cannot have?” His voice is lowered to almost a whisper now.

What? How does he know all this, just from what he saw? And, _no_ —there is no one else! I’m simply _afraid_.

“Are you boys doing all right here?” Dad asks. I jump in surprise, flattening my ears. I was so absorbed in my conversation with Rai I hadn’t noticed him or Papa Leaks approaching. Papa is looking at me with rather fierce eyes, and I can’t return his gaze. 

“Um, yes,” I explain, pulling my hands away from Rai's grasp, as though him touching me were something wrong and inappropriate. But that's why he's here, isn't it? To... touch me? Bond with me? Gods. What am I going to do?? Panic rises in my chest. “I’m doing my best.”

“I have no complaints,” Rai replies. “Your son is delightful, your highnesses.”

“I’m _very_ glad to hear it,” Papa says. “It relieves me to hear you say that.” I know he is looking down at me—glaring at me threateningly—when he says those words.

“Now, if you are finished with breakfast, why don’t you show Rai to the training fields? Perhaps you might sing for him? He’s come all this way to hear you sing, after all,” Dad suggests.

“Yes, Father,” I say miserably.

Before I can get up, Rai is already on his feet, pulling my chair out for me again. Again—he’s doing a _servant’s_ job. Why? What is this? I don’t understand. It has the same effect as before—softening my heart, making me feel cared for and worth his while. I love it. I crave his attention, and I find myself wanting to know more about him.

But mostly, I want to get away from my fathers. I’m sure they will be watching me from somewhere, however, so I need to be on my best behavior. I can’t let myself lose it again. 

Before we leave, Papa whispers to me, “Keep in mind, your other suitors will be watching you today, as will we. Your behavior is the example for our entire kingdom. Do not step out of line, and remember our agreement. I will not hesitate to follow through on my threat—regardless of _where_ you might be at any given time. Do you understand?”

A small hopeless sound leaks from my mouth. Is he saying he will punish me publicly if I disappoint him? I lower my face, ears, and tail drooping sadly.

“Yes, Papa.”

“Then, begone with you. Show your suitor how we train our precious Sangas here in Sisa.”


	3. The first battle, or getting to know you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe and Rai try out their first pairing at the arena and it goes surprisingly well. Konoe is a little shocked at the intimacy of their bond, however--and is shocked when he is able to read the thoughts of the mind of this larger silver cat's thoughts.
> 
> The world is not, it turns out, run according to Prince Konoe's whims and fancies.

I lead the tall silver cat out to the training grounds. I’m not exactly sure what to expect, except that Dad said today would be more taxing than my usual regimen. I’m supposed to show off my skills to the utmost extent and be impressive—I’m the crowning jewel Sisa, after all—and also bring out the strength of this Touga I’ve only just met.

Me, the crowning jewel of Sisa who is limping because of the welts on his ass. My pride is still wounded from Papa’s treatment of me last night, and I’m still scared of disappointing him again, or worse. I'm scared of not being able to perform. I’ve heard of this happening—not being able to bond with a Touga—and will I be punished if that happens? _Publicly_? My body is sweating, and I know Rai can tell, because I see his nose twitching. And even more off-putting, he doesn’t seem to dislike the scent of my sweat. It makes me shudder. Is he _anticipating_ my failure, or is this something else? Why would he _enjoy_ my scent so much?

Papa has arranged for magical opponents to fight in the arena for today’s matches, as usual. This keeps any real people or creatures from harm while still allowing us to demonstrate our full fighting potential. Our nation values both our people and our beasts highly—the monsters of our forests are a part of the circle of life—and in Sisa, we do _not_ hunt for sport or game. We only _ever_ hunt for food. We are careful, too, not to overhunt our forests or overfish our seas, allowing animal populations to regrow naturally.

Rai examines our arsenal while we change into our gear, humming appreciatively.

“What fine training quarters you have here,” he remarks. “Is this where you always train?”

“Um, for the most part,” I reply. “However, I have been singing since I was a child, so I was trained early on—even before I was moved to the palace.” 

“Have you sung for many Tougas, then?” I drop my eyes as Rai strips off his doublet and shirt—he’s wearing a _very_ tight fitting undershirt beneath his blouse, which he has removed. I try not to notice, but he has a wonderfully athletic build. I wonder how long he must have trained to get such a body. Or is he naturally shaped that way? Maybe _all_ Setsurans look like him? 

“Actually, you will be my first Touga. In Sisa, Sangas learn their songs first, only pairing withtheir trainers—older, more experienced Sangas and, in my case, my fathers—until they come of age. Then, once we come of age, we go through this, um, selection process to choose our ideal partner. It’s said that our song will stay pure if we sing for fewer Tougas. And it spares us the, um—” I _want_ to say the word _humiliation_ or _agony_ , at this point, but I hesitate—“ _trouble_ of going through a rigorous selection process.”

“I see,” Rai’s beautiful pale blue eyes meet mine. He suddenly takes both my hands in his, and I _want_ to pull away reflexively, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to move. “I’m _honored_ to be your first. I’ve travelled a long way to meet you, and you haven’t disappointed me yet.” 

 _Disappointed_? That doesn’t exactly feel like a compliment! I bristle slightly and look away, but he keeps my hands in his. 

“What about you? Have you paired with another Sanga before?” I ask, looking away—almost shyly, I think. Will he be comparing me to another, perhaps more competent Sanga, I wonder?

“No. You will be my first. I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’m looking forward to fighting alongside you.” He smiles down at me, kissing my knuckles tenderly, making me start. His lips are so soft—and I’ve never been touched in this intimate way before—no one in my kingdom would dare touch me so familiarly without my permission.

I pull my hands away at this point, and he gives me a little smile at my shyness. However, it’s ridiculous on my part. I _shouldn’t_ be acting so timidly. After all, I will be expected to hand my entire body over to him after this evening’s banquet, so why do I feel like I have the right pull away now? It’s _foolish_ , really! Worse still, just _after_ I yank my hands away, I hear someone clear his throat.

 _Shit_. It’s _Papa_. He _saw_. He saw me just now—and what I just did could _easily_ be interpreted as a clear sign of rejection. I was definitely _not_ trying my hardest to bond with this silver cat with the open mind I promised last night.

“Konoe,” Papa's low voice growls threateningly.

“Ah, Papa!” I look around, desperately, for any sign of Dad’s flaming red hair. Maybe _he_ can get me out of what is sure to become an embarrassing mess, but I can’t see him anywhere. My fur fluffs out anxiously, and both my breath and heart rate increase dramatically. Rai notices my discomfort as my stepfather approaches us.

More than anything, I do _not_ want to be humiliated in front of this dignified Touga—but Rai intimidates me. And it’s not so much that _he_ intimidates me. It’s that the _unknown_ frightens me—what exactly is expected of me, what might be done to me and if it will hurt, if my own desires will be considered—I’m not used to being handled this way. To be frank, I’m used to having everything my own way. And tonight, things are _not_ going to go my way. Over the next five days, I will be forced to do whatever these Tougas want! I’ve never been in this position before. I’m _flooded_ with anxiety.

“ _Please_ —I-I-I’m j-just… scared!” I beg and plead. I’m not sure whether I’m begging Papa or Rai. I don’t know what else to do at this point. The thought that he might whip me again, here and now, is too humiliating to bear and tears spill down my cheeks. I’ll never be able to sing after something like that!

The silver cat reacts in an instant. Strong arms reach out and surround my trembling body, and a soft voice whispers comforting words directly into my ear.

“Listen, you will be fine, Konoe. You are probably feeling a lot of pressure—performance anxiety—I get it. You don’t _know_ me. I’m in the same boat. I understand. But let’s try to work together, all right? Just try your best for me, and I’ll do the same, and it will all work out—it’s all I can ask for. Even being here with you is everything I’ve ever wanted—whether you sing for me or not, that’s for the goddess herself to decide, isn’t it?”

Rai has _completely_ misunderstood my fears—Rai didn’t realize the reason for my fear—which was the fact I was caught withdrawing from him—withdrawing physical affection and _obviously_ not giving him a chance right after promising my parents I would. My anxiety has _nothing_ to do with my performance. And yet, Rai _still_ approached me—despite my withdrawing from him—undeterred by my shyness and fear—he still approached _me_.

However, once I'm pulled close, whispered to, soothed, and held and nearly smothered in his powerful arms, it feels so nice! It calms my heart and my body, which was stiff and trembling, and it now relaxes—I even _melt_ against his larger form.

And he smells _so_ good—like cinnamon and sandalwood and freshly fallen snow.

I just  _love_ how he feels and smells, and I simply allow him to hold me, breathing deeply, burying my nose in his silky hair which is currently loose and falling around his shoulders, even looping my tail around his, relaxing for a few long minutes before he pulls away.

Now the question is, will this display be enough to make up for my mistake in front of Papa? Or is he going to insist on punishing me? Will this be enough to make up for a whipping? When Rai pulls away, I feel something inside of me breaking, and fear washes over me again. My heart aches and my stomach hurts.

“Thank you,” I whisper softly. I think I actually feel a little _guilt—_ guilt for taking advantage of him. “You are very kind.”

“It’s also in my best interest,” Rai replies, still speaking into my ear—and he follows his words with his tongue—giving my ear a soft grooming lick. It sends strange little shivers down my spine and tail, and I try to duck my head.

Of course, I’ve had my ears groomed many times—but this feels different. It is loaded with emotion—and I don’t know how to describe it. Grooming is supposed to clean your fur, but this touch makes me feel just a _little_ bit dirty—but not exactly in a bad way. It makes the hair on my nape stand on end.

I hear a low chuckle. 

“It seems I will have the privilege of enjoying _many_ first experiences with you,” Rai murmurs. “I don’t understand how this could be—but I’ll take it! How has no one licked your ears before?” He licks me again—nipping the outside of my ear lightly, the thin skin of the outer edge, tracing it lightly with his teeth before releasing it. “They are just calling out to be caressed!”

"I-i've b-been groomed b-before," I counter, my voice stammering.

With the breath of his low whispering voice, the murmuring vibrations sinking into my ear, and the damp feeling and the warmth of his tongue, my ears are assaulted with so many new sensations that are so very unlike grooming I have no words to describe them! How can something that is supposed to be used for cleaning make me feel so lewd? It’s so weird—and he’s pulling strange sounds from my mouth as he licking me, too. I try to be quiet, to stifle my voice, but I can’t. 

And then... isn’t Papa watching us? How is Rai so bold? My shoulder pulls up slightly as though to shield myself from him, but I am careful not to reject Rai's touch.

I mean—I know _this—_ establishing a bond with me—is the reason Rai is here—but still—it’s crazy for him to be doing this so openly. It takes everything I have to endure these tickling caresses to my ear, and strange sounds leak from my mouth.

“Hmm—after listening to your soft sighs, I can’t _wait_ to hear your Sanga song,” he murmurs enticingly.

His arms relax, releasing me, and I dare to look around. Papa’s displeased look has faded completely and has been replaced with something else entirely—something that looks oddly like satisfaction and hope. But that can’t be. I simply _cannot_ please Papa Leaks—not even once have I been able to meet his expectations. He is notoriously hard to please. He thinks I am spoiled. I’ve been nothing but trouble since I was born. Dad told me I had a stepbrother once—Firi, a special child who had been abandoned by his biological parents. Leaks had found him as a baby, wailing in a basket by the river in the woods one day. He was half Ribika and half lizard, most likely the result of a curse brought on his parents' doing, and then left to die, alone and forsaken. And often those children don’t live long lives. He lived till he was just five cycles, each one a blessing to Papa Leaks. However, his existence was hidden from the kingdom, since the people are afraid of these cursed children. I don’t remember him, since he was three when Leaks met Dad and me and saved both of our lives—I was a newborn. But after Firi died, I could never live up to his cheerful perfection.

All that aside, however, Rai’s affectionate touching seems to have saved me from Papa’s wrath, despite his misinterpretation of my fear. I’m relieved.

“Are you ready to begin?” Papa asks, his voice gentle.

“Yes, sir,” we reply in unison, though my enthusiasm is slightly less than Rai’s. He is armed with a longsword as big as me and a dagger in his other hand. As a Sanga, I carry no weapon save for my voice. I head out in my current outfit without the doublet—just the silk blouse and breeches, so I won’t overheat. Though if we were truly going into battle, I have a sword I can wield. Papa Leaks follows us into the arena.

The arena isn’t full—only a few seats are occupied today, thankfully: the other Touga suitors and their attaché, my fellow Sanga trainees, Dad, and a few palace staff. 

Our first opponent is a small conjured dragon.

Focusing my energy on Rai, I reach deep inside myself and pull out my song. It’s always been easy for me to sing—during practice, alone, for fun—whenever. And now—I simply think of the silver cat’s powerful arms, his kind response to my ridiculous tears—as well as his delicious smell and, strangely, the feeling of his tongue on my ears—when I sing. 

His ears twitch, his eyes widen, and his chest hitches with a breath of surprise when he is touched by my song. His white tail fluffs out in a happy arc and swings widely. Delicate tendrils of warm white light stretch from my body and connect to his—the light plays in his hair, touches his cheeks, and envelops his body. I actually feel the silky texture of his hair and his smooth skin through the light—the sensation of touch in my melody. Extending his hands out before him, he swings his sword and dagger tentatively. He meets my eye with a genuine smile and he is seriously attractive—and I  _feel_ our connection. 

 _Hi there,_ I think playfully. _How does it feel?_ I’m not _all_ that surprised to  _hear_ his thoughts. 

 _This power like nothing I’ve ever felt before—you feel incredible!_ His cool, low voice—spoken directly in my head—sounds just like the voice he speaks out loud and it makes my ears twitch. It’s strangely sensual—the entire connection makes my body feel a little strange, and it takes a moment to figure out why.

His compliment embarrasses me—though I’m rarely embarrassed by compliments. I _know_ I’m an excellent Sanga and take pride in my abilities—I am Sisa’s most talented Sanga, after all, taking after my father, and even better than him in many ways—and I’m often overly confident in my abilities, but hearing him say so directly in my head makes my ears burn with heat. 

 _Go!_ I urge him on to battle.

Our first opponent is no match for Rai’s strength. I feel his every movement, each step, each swing of the sword and dagger. How he moves his body is as graceful as a dance, practiced with ease, almost instinctual—and under the surface of the battle, I feel another sensation simmering just beneath his skin, burning hotter than fire. It’s a feeling I’m not familiar with, or at least, one new to me. Every time his eyes meet mine, this feeling flashes even hotter, making my pulse race. Is this... _desire_? Wait just a second—am I experiencing _his_ desire for _me_?

For a split second, I want to stop singing and pull away—this is _too_ close, _too_ intimate, _too_ intrusive. As soon as I realize what it is that I’m feeling—that I am intruding in his personal feelings, his innermost thoughts, and his desires—and that he really does have passionate feelings for my person—I want to break our connection. It intimidates me, scares me, frightens me. This desire—it’s not just a vague feeling. It’s very specific.

But when I look around me—I’m trapped. I see both my parents watching carefully. I was told I would feel a connection such as this, and that I might be able to experience _some_ feelings that belong to my partner. But I didn’t know they would be this intense! This is _frightening_! I have no practice dealing with my _own_ feelings at this level of intensity, much less dealing with a stranger’s—especially one with so much more experience than me.

The longer I sing, the more clearly this desire takes shape. I can actually feel exactly what he wants to do to me. He wants to lick my ears, groom them, nip them, suck them into his mouth—the thought of which makes me quiver with a desire of my own—he has a strange attraction to my ears, which he finds strangely oversized. What? My ears are _normal_! I am slightly offended. But I keep singing just the same.

 _They are not normal. You have large ears, proportionally speaking. Compare them to your fathers—either of them, for example,_ the thought rings loud in my head—his soft voice—as he lands a solid blow to his opponent. _They make you look so young, just like a kitten—adorable and cute!_

 _My ears are fine! Your ears are disproportionately small!_ I counter in my head. But licking my ears isn’t the _only_ thing he wants to do to me. He is attracted to my small body—at least, small compared to his own—and I can’t help following his thoughts and listening in while I sing—I cannot escape them, in fact—and he wants to lick my tail, too—the hooked tip looks fascinating to him, and the thought of him grooming it sends shivers through my body, even during our battle, making my song’s melody quiver. But my flustered response to his desire seems to only add power to his movements, which I do not understand. 

He is attracted to my slim waist, too—longing to trace where my waist curves in and my hips curve out—and he’s noticed I swing my hips when I walk. _Is it deliberate? It is!_ His voice is soft and teasing, though he accuses me of flirting. And I _do_ walk like this to flaunt my figure. But it flusters me to have my flirting pointed out so obviously. _You have taught yourself to walk in that enticing way? You’re such a tease! You pretend to be bold, yet you fluster so easily! You're so cute._

And wait—when he says _trace_ , he doesn’t mean with his _hands_. He wants to do it with his mouth and tongue.

 _What_? But the image—his vivid imagination shows up in my mind, an image of me—stripped bare—quivering and trembling, beneath the touch of his fingers, keening, mewling, making those strange sighing sounds I was making when he was licking my ears—it’s projected in my head like it is happening right now, distracting me. How can he _fight_  with an image like that in his head? I don’t understand. _Don't we all need someone worth fighting for?_ His soft voice purrs. I can’t help my blush creeping into my cheeks. It’s an incredibly arousing image—but I can’t believe _anyone_ would think of me in that way! Also, I’d think thoughts like these should interfere with my ability to sing, but they don’t. In fact—they make my song louder, stronger and more powerful.

We continue to the next opponent. And the next, and the next. I become more and more flustered, blood rushing up to the tips of my ears. I don’t know what to do with myself. In some ways, I am flattered—relieved he isn’t here because he was forced to be. But in other ways, I’m slightly afraid, fearful of what may come this evening if I don’t want it—and I fear that part of me does!

After Rai fells the sixth opponent, Papa Leaks finally calls time. My own body has been feeling hits, I realize when Rai’s body is hit. He is indeed a powerful Touga and a skilled fighter. I love watching him move—that silky white tail streaming behind him, the power behind his hits, the gracefulness of his steps—and the strong, shapely muscles of his legs and ass.

Once I stop my song, however, the ground beneath my feet begins to shake precariously—and my vision grays out around the edges. My knees buckle and silver fur flashes before my eyes and I find myself in Rai’s arms.

“Oi! Are you all right?” Rai exclaims, brushing my hair from my face.

“This is to be expected,” Papa explains. “Overexertion is common when you first start out. He needs rest, and he will be fine.” Addressing me, and only me, he reaches down to stroke my face. “Konoe, you did very, very well. I’m _very_ proud of you. You exceeded my highest expectations—you opened your heart and your mind—and you worked hard for your Touga, didn’t you? I’m sure you felt the bond between you, didn’t you?”

Papa’s voice is so soft I hardly recognize it. He only speaks like this to _Dad_ — _never_ to me. He really _is_ proud of me, and I feel tears burning in my eyes which I struggle to keep in check. I nod fiercely and say, “Thank you, Papa.”

“Konoe, that was _excellent_ , and Rai, you are indeed very skilled!” Dad exclaims, clapping his hands. “You make a wonderful team! Rai—can I trust you to get Konoe cleaned up rested before this evening’s dinner? Why not use the prince’s private quarters for now?”

“Leave his care to me,” Rai bows respectfully. “I’ve been trained in care for the over-exerted Sanga.” 

Papa shoots me a short warning look, but I’m too exhausted to move, much less rebel, so I have no choice but to let Rai carry me from the arena. He carries me directly to my quarters. It feels oddly comfortable in his arms.

How is this going to work? I wonder as my eyes drift closed heavily. I’m too exhausted to stand—my song has taken so much from me, despite all of my training. 

“I-I had no idea how taxing it would be to sing for someone else,” I say softly, once we arrive in my private baths. It’s a large room with a shower and a large heated pool, built exclusively for my use. No one ever comes here except me and my staff—and it’s deserted now. I might feel more comfortable if some staff were here, in fact, since I’m now alone with Rai. I look around nervously.

I feel terribly vulnerable, and I find myself slightly on edge.

“It’s to be expected. When you sing for me, you loan me your strength,” Rai answers, setting me down on a lounge chair and removing his boots. “Your song holds an amazing amount of power. Your voice is so mysterious and beautiful. I’ve heard the song of a Sanga before, but _none_ sounded like yours. Your voice was soft and gentle—it felt like you were inside my head.”

I’m feeling slightly breathless when the large silver cat kneels down before me and pulls off my boots.

“Ah—what are you doing?” I ask, a quiet protest in my voice.

“I’m taking care of you,” Rai says firmly, “as I promised your fathers I would. I think you should just relax and allow this.” 

“N-no,” I protest. But I really cannot resist. I don’t have the energy. I’m exhausted. “Please—I just need rest.”

“And you shall _have_ rest. But you also need a little care. Allow me to do this for you, Konoe.” Rai touches my cheek gently. “After your beautiful song, please—let me _help_ you. I promise I won’t hurt you. You saw—you could _see_ for yourself that I don’t want to hurt you, didn’t you?” 

“P-please,” I stammer. Does he mean about the thought reading? 

“Konoe,” Rai says, looking up at me, holding one of my feet in his hands. “I _know_.”

“Wh-what?” I look up at him nervously, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap.

“When you first pulled your hands away from me—and you panicked in front of your father, I knew then that you do _not_ wish to be here.”

“Th-that’s...” I look away from him, truly speechless for the first time today. Wait—what exactly did he know?

“In fact, I suspect your fathers’ wishes on the matter of seeing suitors were _very_ different from your own. And I heard a rather nasty rumor which, I think, will shortly be confirmed.”

“What _rumor_?” I flatten my ears against my skull, but I cannot bring myself to meet his eyes.

“I tried asking you at breakfast, and I tried searching your mind while we were fighting, but my curiosity is still not sated. Is there someone else?”

“Someone _else_?” I ask quietly, finally meeting his eyes. I don’t understand the question.

“Are you in _love_ with someone else? Someone you cannot have?” Rai’s voice is tender and soft, not demanding or cruel.

“Ah— _no_! Of _course_ not!” I answer immediately.

“Then—what _is_ it? Are you afraid?”

“Y-Yes.” Admitting it makes me feel so much better! A weight has been lifted from my shoulders—finally, I can breathe again!

“Of what? _What_ are you afraid of? You sang perfectly. Your strength—our bond—even from the first time we connected—I was amazed.”

“I wasn’t afraid of the performance. It’s what comes after.”

“You fear _me_? I only intend to care for you,” Rai says, horrified. “Why are you afraid of me?”

“I mean... _tonight_. I do not wish to be... subjugated.” I say the word so quietly he can hardly understand.

“Subjugated?” Rai asks, stunned. 

“I-i’m not a large cat, and I-i have n-no experience—” I’m stammering desperately, and I’m sure my face is as purple as a kuim.

“Ah, Konoe. You are _adorable_ ,” Rai interrupts me suddenly, a gentle expression on his face—but he isn’t mocking me. He tilts my chin up toward him, making me look him in the eye. “Konoe. Listen to me. I will not do _anything_ to you tonight that you do not wish. It’s my goal to make you my _willing_ partner— _not_ to subjugate you. I want to make _love_ to you, not force you. Do you understand?”

“B-but my parents...”

"What about your parents?"

"My father—he commanded me to obey you."

"Did he?" Rai raises his eyebrows. He looks at me carefully. "Is that why you panicked when you withdrew your hands from me? He saw you withdraw your hands, and you were afraid you'd be punished?"

"Yes—I was sure I was going to be punished."

"But he didn't punish you. Why do you think he didn't punish you?"

I close my mouth for a moment. What was happening then? Rai was holding me—which I allowed—and he licked my ears so demonstratively, and I was so lewd... and gross... and open... but...

"Did you lick my ears on purpose?"

"I thought he was going to get you in trouble," Rai flashes those pale blue eyes at me softly.

"You saved me? On purpose? Why?" I'm stunned. "You don't even know me?"

"I like your ears. I felt like they needed to be groomed," he has a somewhat mischievous smile on his face.

"Really. Why?" I insist. "Didn't you want to see me punished? Especially if I was pulling away from you?"

"No. Konoe—didn't I tell you? I want to make you love me. I want to make you fall for me. I don't want you to hate me. I find you sweet and adorable, and I love the sound of your voice."

And suddenly, Rai begins to unbutton my blouse. I don’t understand!

“Uwah—what are you doing now, then?” 

“Do you not want my care?” Rai asks, stopping his hands, flattening them against my chest. It’s unfair, because they feel so good right there. “I was planning to help you bathe, and then put you to bed. You are a sweaty mess, and you will feel much better if you bathe first. I was also going to rub your body down with massage oil, as we were taught as Tougas. The Sanga song takes a lot from your physical body, and this massage will help you recover. But I don’t have to do any of these things, if you do not wish it, Konoe. I will _not_ touch you without your consent.”

I feel tears burning in my eyes, and I find I am fiercely confused.

First—my parents—they would _kill_ me if they found me resisting Rai’s advances. Papa would probably whip me, regardless of my exhaustion—strip me bare and beat me till I complied with whatever Rai wished. I was told it’s my _job_ as a Sanga to be a good host and then offer him my body—whatever the Touga wishes, he may do with it as he likes. I try not to sob when I think about that.

Second—I’m utterly touched and amazed that Rai has stated he won’t do _anything_ I don’t want without my explicit consent—and that he has told me _exactly_ what he plans to do. And  _none_ of his plans involve any sexual touching—at least not now. It’s a relief—and weirdly, slightly disappointing. Although… he _did_ say he wants to “make love” to me, but not force me—but I think he means to do that later.

Third—I _have_ seen inside Rai’s head. I _know_ he desires me. He isn’t only here because he was ordered to come here. He actually _desires_ me. That makes me feel good. It makes me feel funny—my chest and heart feel fluttery and floaty—and what I saw inside his head makes mewant to just submit my body to him and see what happens. It might be fun—but then... I’m _much_ too afraid to do that! 

Fourth—I think I’m attracted to Rai, too. Even _before_ I saw inside his head, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off him. I like his hair, his eyes, and my gods—that body. I want him to touch me. There’s something that feels right about him. But he’s just so big! He still frightens me. What if he does something that hurts me? 

“Are these tears? Do you want me to stop? Ah, no. Konoe. Don’t cry.” I feel a soft wet touch to my face—and I open my eyes, and Rai’s face is so close to mine—like _right there_ —and he is _licking_ the tears from my cheeks. It’s terribly intimate, and it makes me gasp. I hardly know what to do. If I turned my lips just a little, I could kiss him. I _know_ I could—and so, I turn my face just a tiny bit, keeping my lips closed, and brush his lips with mine—ever so softly.

Just brushing my lips with his. Just _once_.

“N-no,” I whisper. “Don’t stop. I-I think... I want your care.” 

He smiles.

“I’m at your service.”

Almost roughly, he pulls the blouse off my body and then unbuckles my belt. He unbuttons my breeches and strips them from me, but pulls off my stockings, one at a time, slowly and sensually, leaving me in just my underwear. He turns on the shower, getting the temperature just right, and standing up—he turns to face me.

While maintaining eye contact—much to my surprise—he pulls his own shirt over his head, silver hair spilling out of his ponytail—the ribbon holding back all that hair is pulled out along with his shirt—so his hair falls to his waist in long layers. His pale skin is nearly white and perfect—sculpted muscles bulging just beneath his skin. I realize too late I’ve licked my lips. I want—I want to touch that skin.

He unbuckles his belt and strips off his breeches boldly—while facing me—watching _me_ watch _him_ , in fact—and then pulls off his stockings. He has a soft, sexy smile on his face. He turns around to teasingly slide his underwear from his hips, and when he turns around, he keeps his white fluffy tail bristled and posed in just the right place to hide himself from me—but I am _looking,_ and he _knows_ I am looking. He flashes me a wicked smile and approaches me, now completely nude.

He pulls off my underwear—sliding them off my hips gently, carefully—like he already _knows_ about the injuries that I myself have forgotten—and then picks me up in his arms. My fur is completely fluffed out, and he pulls his claws gently through my tail. I _had_ forgotten about the welts on my ass and thighs—distracted by that little show of his—and he inhales sharply when he sees them, as he stands me up in the shower, having me lean against the wall. He pulls a stool for me to sit on and pushes me onto it, very gently.

“This confirms the rumors I heard,” he says quietly, brushing the welts gently—they don’t burn or sting under his fingers. In fact—his touch makes me tremble. “These are quite fresh.” 

“Ah—um,” I’m _so_ ashamed! I hardly know what to say! A sixteen year-old prince who is whipped by his parents? I feel ridiculous and my face flushes.

“This happened last night, didn’t it?” Rai asks.

“Um, yes.” 

“I heard your cries. There was something in your voice—it called to me. I tried to find you, searching the grounds, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Is that why he was wandering around outside last night?

“I saw you by the pond,” I say.

“Yes,” Rai answers. “I went there when I couldn’t find you. I wondered if it might be you. Your voice—it has a certain... quality? When you cried out, I heard you in my _heart_ before I heard you with my ears. Did you defy your parents? Was it because of the selection process?”

“Yes. This was the first time they’ve ever raised a hand to me, though,” I say. I don’t sound very convincing, I realize, like I’m making excuses for them. They really are good parents!

“Are you disappointed in the Tougas they selected for you?” Rai asks gently. 

“N-no. I was acting like a spoiled child,” I confess. “I was being selfish, not thinking of my own kingdom, only thinking of my own desires.” Rai ignores my comments, however.

“Look how pretty your fur is,” he murmurs, continuing to run his claws through the fur on my tail. 

I blush fiercely and look away, while the stool I’m sitting on is dragged under the shower. He lathers up my hair—shampooing it with a special shampoo—it smells different from what I usually use—minty and fresh.

“I brought this from my country. We designed it for our many long-haired breeds, and it works well for detangling. I’d heard you have luscious, thick fur, though it is short. I thought you might enjoy it,” he explains.

“It smells nice,” I hum—and weirdly, I am purring—feeling his strong fingers massaging my scalp.

He rinses my hair and then conditions it with something from another bottle. He also scrubs my body from top to bottom—skipping the welted skin, of course—using a loofah. It’s slightly scratchy, but it feels nice—at least, till he reaches my feet. My feet tickle, and I keep trying to pull away.

Aside from feeling ticklish, I’m oddly relaxed around the silver cat, even though I’m nude. Shouldn’t I be more nervous around him? I know how he feels about me—some of the specifics of what he wants to do to me keep popping into my head—how he wants to touch me—so shouldn’t I be more nervous? 

I mean, he _said_ he wouldn’t do anything unless I wanted him to. And I believe him. But why do I trust him?

He rinses me off, and normally I would soak for a while after a shower. But instead, he pulls me out of the water and wraps me in a towel. He puts a towel around his waist, too—his hair dripping. He looks funny with his long fur soaked through—and he shakes himself dry, scattering water droplets throughout the room. 

He runs a comb through my hair, and it doesn’t snag or pull—and pulls it through his own hair quickly as well—and then carries me to my bedroom. Shouldn’t I be nervous _now_? I’m _still_ not—maybe it’s the scent of the shampoo that’s making me relaxed.

He covers my entire body in a minty scented massage oil—massaging deep into my muscles, pulling my limbs and the joints, cracking my back and my shoulders—and it feels so relaxing. He even puts the oil on the welts—and it doesn’t burn. It somehow soothes me, relaxes me—and I feel like my entire body is floating and light, almost dizzy.

I actually drift off to sleep as he is rubbing me down.

I wake some time later to that strange, warm, damp sensation on my ears. He is grooming them again, repeatedly—long, slow strokes—patiently, gently. I really enjoy the feeling and simply relish the sensation, a deep, satisfied purr emanating from my body. He is curled up behind me in my bed, purring loudly himself, and it feels so _right_ , like he simply belongs there with his arms crossed in front of my chest.

The moon of light is beginning to set—I know I have to get up and dress for dinner—we have to make an appearance at the banquet. Dinner and dancing—it should be fun. Perhaps I can dance with him. And then—I will spend the night with him. I’m not quite so afraid of that now—since I know he doesn’t have plans to torture me or hurt me like I’d feared.

But for now—I think I’ll lie here just a little longer. My body feels refreshed and happy, cared for, well tended. I’m thankful.


	4. Dinner, dancing, and drinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first night of dining and dancing with the Touga selection process doesn't go quite as Konoe plans, although he escapes without any serious consequences despite consuming large amounts of alcohol.

My staff appears to help me dress, and Rai excuses himself to dress for dinner as well—dropping a light kiss on the tip my ears. I notice it tingles just a little bit, even after he is gone.

I’m offered a glass of sparkling wine while I’m being prepared. My staff takes extra time in selecting attractive undergarments for me, I notice, and _that_ makes me cringe—even despite Rai’s comforting assurances from before. 

“Your grace, you fought very well today—and that Setsuran Touga—he is so very handsome. They are all attractive, of course,” Jacques says, chattering away happily, “but I prefer Rai’s silver locks, pale skin, and icy blue eyes. And his body—my gods—what strength! Your grace was literally swept off his feet by him after the trial! It’s obvious he cares for you very much!” 

I wish Jacques would keep his opinions to himself, but if wishes were horses...

“Perhaps you’ve already had a _sample_ of him this afternoon?” He is prying into my personal affairs again!

“Please!” I snap, flashing my eyes angrily, and he immediately refills my wine, hoping to improve my mood and also get me to talk more freely. “Rai was only tending to my exhaustion! He helped me bathe and gave me the most wonderful massage.” 

“Your grace’s hair and body smell delightful,” Jacques says, “And your fur is so shiny. So you must tell me, your grace,” lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “is Rai as beautiful nude as he is dressed? He would suit you very well, despite his, er, large stature.”

I blush furiously. Jacques knows I’m inexperienced and also somewhat frightened of sex—and he has personal experience I do not. He never lets an opportunity pass during which he might tease me about it.

I’m dressed in a fine three-piece outfit of pale ivory silk, accented with gold trim and ruby buttons, suited for an elegant night of dining and dancing. My slippers are red and with block heels, trimmed with large gold buckles and rubies. I have an understated crown circlet which I will wear for dinner as soon as my hair is styled.

Jacques has just finished running the brush through the fur on my tail and is starting on my ears and my hair when there’s a knock at my door. _I’m_ starting my third glass of wine—my nerves are getting to me. 

“Come,” I say, trying to pull myself together.

It’s my parents.

Dad takes the brush from Jacques, brushing my long hair gently till it shines. Even at my age, I love when he brushes my hair. I always have. He often takes the time to groom me—whenever he can afford to, at least—and I have missed this time together as I’ve gotten older.

Papa dismisses my staff and pours himself and Dad two glasses of wine. He sinks heavily into a chair, watching both of us in the mirror.

“You look lovely, honey,” Dad says to me, watching me lift the flute of wine to my lips.

"Thank you,” I blush lightly—probably more from the effects of the alcohol than from embarrassment, however.

“You performed very well today,” Papa says, and I’m surprised to hear such earnest praise from his lips. “You did the name of Sisa proud, son, and you will find yourself a Touga over the next few days—of that, I have no doubt.”

“Sweetheart—” and that term of endearment makes me look up apprehensively. It’s one Dad usually saves for something unpleasant. “Sweetheart, you’ve performed so well today—Papa told me there was only _one_ incident in which he caught you pulling away from your suitor.” 

“I-i was only startled,” I try making an excuse—Papa can’t still be upset about that, can he? I look at his reflection in the mirror and find it unreadable. Plus with the amount I’ve already had to drink, it’s even harder for me to guess what he’s thinking. “And I explained my thoughts and the slip-up to Rai, and h-he forgave me...”

“Now, now, don’t worry yourself about it now, Konoe,” Dad soothes me, continuing to pull the brush through my hair till it shines like gold. Looking at myself in the mirror, a truly beautiful (and also truly drunk) cat returns my gaze—hell, even _I'd_ want to fuck him. “We will choose to overlook it this _one_ time.”

“Just bear in mind, son, that it is _not_ in your best interest to play hard to get or to avoid connecting with these cats,” Papa remarks. “Rai was _very_ gracious to you. I saw that myself—his eagerness to please you and protect you, even in while your own lands, is very strong, and it leads me to believe that he will be gentle with you in the bedroom as well.”

“Understand,” Dad explains, “that the more you open your heart, the better you will understand your bond and the more you will understand whether these individuals are worthy of your trust.”

“If you pull away and close yourself off out of fear, you will never find out what these Tougas are made of. And you may make a mistake—ending up with the wrong country and agreement because you are too afraid to take a risk.”

I lower my eyes in what I hope looks like a compliant gesture, but frankly, I’m not used to obedience, so I don’t know if I pull it off. My fathers exchange a frustrated look.

“Do you understand?” Dad asks me, pulling my shiny hair into a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck. 

“So—just to get this straight...” my mouth starts drunkenly talking without my permission, but it’s too late to stop! “You want me to put myself out there—offer up my body—specifically my _virginity_ —to these strangers I know nothing about, one right after the other, so we can get the best deal for our country?”

“That sums it up, however crassly, yes,” Papa says. At least he admits it!

“How does that make me any different than a _whore_?” I ask boldly—and yes, it’s rude. I realize I'm complaining to my parents about our country’s sacred traditions.

Dad sighs deeply, and Papa jumps out of his chair.

“Konoe! This is a _sacred_ process! How dare you speak to your father that way!”

“Exchanging my body for resources? It’s not my fault that our country believes _whoring_ out its prince _sacred_ ,” I spit.

Papa is right at my chair and has grabbed my chin roughly—violently, even—craning my neck painfully so I have to gaze directly in his eyes. They are smoldering with fire behind a usually cool exterior. 

“You need to learn some respect and drop this bratty behavior! Your attitude will embarrass you _and_ our entire kingdom! I don’t want you burning to the ground what we’ve taken so much effort to build.” 

“Leaks, calm down, love. He’s only a _child_ —and he’s terrified! I understand how he feels! Sweetheart, I had to go through this myself long ago, and I _know_ it is scary and overwhelming—but Rai was very kind to you, wasn’t he? He even knew about massage, right? And he didn’t take advantage of you this afternoon, did he? He could have, you realize.”

“Though he was within his _rights_ to do so, Konoe,” Papa warns me. “Never forget that these Tougas are also making a trial run of _you_ —and if you fail to meet their expectations—say, because you’re too afraid to let anyone touch you and you pull away, or bite them or scratch them, you may get more than you get bargained for. Your reputation may suffer or worse: you may be treated cruelly for not offering yourself freely. So I recommend you _submit,_ for I’m sure one of these Tougas won’t appreciate your impudent behavior!” 

Submit? What the hell does he know? To my horror, I hear the following words drop from my lips:

“Submit? And what would _you_ , dear father, ever know about _submission_? You, who terrorizes an entire nation, keeping it in line with a snap of your fingers— _you_ tell _me_ to _submit_? When you’ve never had to submit yourself?” I slam back the rest of my fourth or possibly my fifth glass of wine—in any case, I’m on my second bottle.

Papa grabs the glass flute from my fingers and tosses it into the fire, where it makes a small explosion in the flames, making my fur fluff out.

“You will never speak to me in that tone again if you know what’s good for you,” he growls, his face inches of my own, my ears flattening fearfully against my skull. “Why must you do everything the hard way, Konoe? We have tried our best to provide for you, and instead of being grateful and doing your duty—and this is the _first_ thing we’ve ever required of you—why must you rebel and fight us every step of the way?”

“Honey, please,” Dad stands up, putting his hands on Papa’s shoulders. “Leave us—leave me with him. I don’t think another whipping will help him at this point.”

“ _I_ do—at least he _complied_  after the last physical punishment—and he _continued_ complying.”

“Leaks, please—he’s just _afraid_ ,” Dad begs. “He is putting on airs right now, but I know it’s because he is scared. I was, too, during the selection, especially just before the first night. Be patient with him, my darling.” 

“Again, you indulge him too much!” Papa snaps. He slams back his own wine and then takes a deep breath. “Nevertheless, you did not displease us during the tournament. You performed quite well, you worked well as a team and made us both proud.”

I’m angry and duck my head, trying to avoid letting his hand brush against my ears, but it does anyway. I don’t understand him! 

“You will surely please the Setsuran tonight in the bedchambers, too, if you keep the bond you created with him in mind,” Papa kisses the tip of one of my ears and departs, his severe black robes flowing behind him. 

Dad sighs, and he pushes his bright red hair out the way of his green eyes. 

“Papa loves you very much and wishes you nothing but success,” his soft voice says. 

“Then why must he always be so _critical_?!” My complaint comes out as an entitled whine.

“Because he _is_ critical of your behavior, Konoe!”

I’m shocked to hear Dad say this, and a small sound drops from my lips. 

“You are against me, too?” Tears spill down my cheeks. 

“Now, now—don’t spoil your good looks and your beautiful costume, Konoe,” Dad soothes. “You must simply remember to be on your best behavior and remember your courtly manners. You will do just fine.” 

“But—” I begin.

“You have no choice, my dear,” Dad whispers. “I think Rai will treat you kindly. As for the others, however, well, it remains to be seen. But if you begin tonight with a _positive_ sexual experience, you will have something to fall back on in your fantasies, and _that_ will help get you through the rest.”

“But can’t you save me from the negative ones? I don’t want to be treated cruelly!” 

“Konoe! It’s in _your_ hands! Don’t you understand? Simply reach out to each Touga genuinely, and they will respond to you in kind.”

“Will they, though? That’s not what I’ve heard!” 

“And don’t imbibe so much. It’s unattractive,” Dad says, stroking my ears. “You will ensnare them with your dancing and your fine manners. Make this evening the best night of Rai’s life, shower him with attention and affection, and he will want to protect you from the world.”

My ears twitch. 

“You mean I could get out of having to...” 

“I’m afraid not _literally_ ,” Dad says. “But after the ceremony, he will. You certainly look the part of a prince. Now, you must act like one. Are you ready?”

I wipe my tears on a handkerchief, discarding it in the laundry. Dad places the circlet of gold on my head—it’s accented with tiny red rubies, which sets off my hair gorgeously. I pose subtly in front of the mirror, and I have to admit I do look perfect. My hair is bound loosely down my back, framing my face subtly, making my honey-colored eyes appear molten gold. The pale silk of my outfit only rivals the color of my ivory skin.

“All right,” I say, and I smile softly at the gorgeous creature in the mirror. Then I touch Dad’s sleeve. He is very dressed up, too, looking the part of a king—wearing a lovely lime green doublet slashed with gold, lime green breeches and matching slippers—making his eyes look the same bright green shade. It sets off his red hair brightly.

“Shall I plait your hair?” I offer. I’m ready for dinner now—I look amazing, ready to sweep those Tougas right off their feet—especially that silver-haired one.

“Thank you, but Papa prefers it loose and wild,” Dad replies. I guess I knew that, so I run the brush through his hair lightly and pull him to his feet. He still is quite attractive himself, I have to admit. Will I keep my looks, like he has, over the years? 

He offers me his arm and walks me to the banquet hall, where we are announced.

As I expect, all eyes turn to me when I strut into the room. To my utter annoyance, my table isn’t set up on the dais. I’ll be expected to mingle at each table the evening before settling down with my chosen suitor for the evening. Dad leads me to the far end of the room, but the silver-haired cat gives me a sexy little wink as I pass. I flush with delight at the attention.

The orange-haired cat is first, again.

“Did you enjoy your day, Tokino?” I ask, thankful for the wine I was able to consume in my quarters before having to mingle. Casual small talk isn’t my gift, to be fair.

“Indeed I did,” he replies. “Not only was I privy to your wonderful song—and it was indeed wonderful—I got to explore the local markets this afternoon. The way you do business in Sisa is much different than in my hometown of Karou. Many merchants spoke well of your system of money and exchange, weights and measures...” and I swear to the _goddess_ he yaps on and on about stuff I care _nothing_ about. I simply nod politely, adding a simple, “uh huh,” now and then, sipping from a new flute of sparkling wine. I’ve lost count by this time—six perhaps? It’s sweet and delicious, sparkling on my tongue. 

As soon as he stops talking, I bow politely and move to the next table. As at breakfast, the mysterious Kiran stands up and kneels before me, again taking both my hands in his and kissing my knuckles. 

“Oh, please, no formalities,” I say, uncomfortably. “I didn't mean to interrupt your meal—” but to my horror, the cat has released my hand and grabbed my _tail_! My fur fluffs out furiously—to be touched so suddenly and freely and in such a public place—it’s positively  _indecent_! A pink blush spreads from my chest to my face, racing quickly to my ears.

Of course, I don’t know Kira’s traditions—but the cat—his name is Asato—looks up at me from where he is kneeling on the floor before me, holding my tail reverently in his hands. To my utter mortification, while he keeps his eyes on my face, he licks the caramel colored fur on the hooked tip of my tail—using long, bold, grooming strokes. His rough tongue sends shivers up the length of my tail, ruffling out the fur even more and making my body jolt in surprise. 

I know I’m supposed to submit myself to this cat at some point—but does that mean _publicly_? This feels awfully intrusive. I’ve _never_  even seen my own parents groom each other’s tails in public—and this is feeling very... embarrassing. 

My pulse is racing and I look at my dad, who is talking to a server, as though he is deliberately ignoring this scene. I glance over at Papa, seated in the corner. He is alone, holding a flute of sparkling wine in his hand and wearing the sternest expression I have ever seen. I shoot him a look as if to beg, _help me_ , please? And his expression only hardens.

What am I supposed to do?! 

“A-Asato! Ah,” I say softly, reaching my hands out to his ears. “Thank you for your gentle and tender care.” Stroking his ears softly, I whisper, “Would you mind so much saving this sort of affection for your evening with me?” 

I’m rewarded with a bright, eager smile. “Would you like to break bread with me?” he asks.

“I would love to hear about your day,” I reply, utterly relieved that he has stopped grooming me in such a personal way. I take a seat, help myself to some of the food at his table, and listen as he talks about how wonderful my song was, how great it was to tour our training facilities, how he cannot wait to partner with me, how he cannot wait to have my body all to himself. 

I choke on my food when I hear that phrase fall from his mouth.

“Excuse me?” I say. I must have misunderstood. He would never be so bold—I mean, actually saying that out loud, would he? 

“We drew names to decide the order we would be allowed to spend time with you. I will have my turn with you not tomorrow, nor the day after, but the day after _that_. It’s why I’ve come all this way—I saw your painting at my home in Kira, and that’s when I knew we were meant to be, Your Grace.”

I feel a soft touch on my ears. He is stroking them, reaching across the table.

“I thought of that image every second of my training. However—in person, you are even more captivating than that lovely painting. It did not capture your size, your energy, your magic.”

I would be the first to admit I am a vain creature. I am very pretty and make efforts to show off my best assets. Of course, I know how to take a compliment—I’ve heard them all my life—ever since I was a child, I have been known as the beautiful prince of Sisa. But this Kiran cat has managed to fluster me—even after all that booze.

“I-I d-don’t know what to say,” I admit, looking down. Dad pulls my arm, tugging me along to the next table. “Thank you!” I flash Asato a genuine smile. 

The music has started by the time I get to Bardo’s table.

“Have you had enough to eat, little one?” His low voice rumbles.

Little one? That’s awfully casual, I think. I feel slightly offended by the nickname.

“How about a dance?” He stands up and pulls me to me to my feet. “I can hardly resist when you look good enough to eat.” 

This tiger cat is huge—I realize when he pulls me in close to his body—and he smells nice. He is very strong, easily able to overpower me. These are the thoughts that rush through my brain while I’m on the dance floor. For it won’t be long that I will be spending time—in the bedroom— with him.

“You are surprisingly nimble on your feet,” I say quietly. “For a cat of your size.” 

“Ho? You think larger breeds are less agile?” Bardo murmurs. “We are surprisingly agile—in many ways—not just on the dance floor, either.” 

I look up at his face for a moment to see him flash me a wicked little grin through that black beard.

“I meant in the arena, of course. Where is _your_ mind, Your Grace?” 

The hand on my waist lowers a little bit more and playfully massages the base of my tail—making it fluff out a little. I’ve danced many times with lots of partners, but I start to feel a little strange, dancing with him.

“Have you always been a Touga? Have you ever paired with a Sanga before?” I ask. 

“I’ve been a Touga a long time, and I’ve never paired with a Sanga so far—however, I have trained Tougas in the past,” Bardo answers. “Why? Am I too old for you?” 

“N-no.” I think but don’t say, “but your experience intimidates me.” Then I wonder—is it only Sangas who are expected to keep themselves pure? 

“Sir,” I ask, “Since you train Tougas—are they also expected to, er, keep themselves from diluting their powers?”

“Diluting?” Bardo asks. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” 

“Until they meet a Sanga? Are they supposed to, er, remain pure?” 

“Pure?” Bardo sounds shocked for a moment. “Wait—this is your first time—er, sexually, I mean—with us? You have no prior sexual experience?”

“No. Of course, it's my first time. It’s said the more partners we have, the more likely it is we will dilute our powers.”

“That is not the case with Tougas. However, there’s nothing magical about Tougas, you see. We are simply conditioned to fight—our bodies trained, there's nothing magic about it.”

“I see,” I reply, and the song comes to a close. 

“So... you really _are_ as innocent as you look, then? I cannot _wait_.” Bardo is holding me out at arm's length, bowing to me, at the close of the dance, when those silken words drop from his lips.

I look up at him in surprise and hear a light chuckle. I’m offended, I think. 

“Thank you for the dance. I need to see to my next guest,” I say stiffly. I’m not enjoying my own party very much.

I leisurely sway over to the next table, trying to project more power and confidence than I actually feel—Shiki from Meigi, is it? He is already ogling me—his eyes creepily wandering up and down my body. 

Understand, it’s _not_ that I’m unused to getting these kinds of looks and admiring glances, because I am. I’m nice to look at. I know this. And I walk in a way that accents my hips, waist, and ass. I’m an excellent dancer, my breeches are slim fitting, and I know they are flattering. 

The problem is that I’ve never had to worry about actually being touched before. And out of all the suitors here, this Meigi Touga worries me the most. Maybe it’s his red eyes or the flat expression, but I swallow my fear and approach his table anyway, my eyes sliding toward Papa for just a moment. He tilts his chin expectantly. Really, I only have to greet this Touga, ask him how his day was, and then I can enjoy myself with Rai, who _doesn’t_ scare me. I won’t think about spending time with the Meigi until the day arrives—tomorrow. It makes me feel slightly sick.

Taking a deep breath and a gulp of wine, I sit down at his table, across from him, plastering a false smile on my face. “How have you been enjoying Sisa?” 

“It’s barbaric.” 

My ears perk up. “Oh? I apologize. Is there something I might do to make your stay more pleasant?”

“There certainly is, but I believe I have to wait till tomorrow since the lucky white cat drew tonight’s straw.”

I blush fiercely. “Actually, I meant as far as creature comforts in your room, your meals, and so forth.” 

“That’s _exactly_ what I meant.” 

Before I can register his movements, Shiki is hovering over me, nuzzling his nose and mouth in my ear. I feel his hot breath moving the soft white fur buried deep inside my ear, and he amazingly clutches my throat with both his hands—as though threatening to choke me. 

I don’t move, except for a slight tremble, but a small frightened sound leaks out of my mouth—like I am begging for mercy.

“I’m angry I won’t be your first,” he whispers. “I wanted to be the one to steal your purity and innocence from you.”

“Please...” I whisper. I want him to release me. I’m _terrified_ of him. 

“I cannot _wait_ to have you in my chambers. I think I shall have you serve me dinner privately—perhaps you shall even be my serving dish. I can lick the food off your body as I like. Wouldn’t you like that? Or you can feed me mouth to mouth—care for me like a true Sanga should, for his beloved Touga?” 

His words are disgusting me—but strangely, my dick responds—I think because he is whispering in my ear and because of all the alcohol I’ve consumed. The less I want it, the more I think about it, the more I respond and the more humiliated I feel.

“If you were to spill my food—even a single crumb—or disobey me—I would punish this luscious little body of yours until you submit, until tears fall, until you would sing for me as you sang for that silver cat. Or perhaps I will punish you simply because it pleased me.” He tips my face up to meet his eyes. That red gaze—burning hot with something I don’t recognize but is completely devoid of sympathy—it is frightening. “Sisa’s most beautiful prince—Sisa’s darling Sanga—I’d heard the rumors, but who knew how indulged you  _really_ were?”

A small shocked sound drops from my lips and Shiki presses a finger against them to silence them. 

“Hush, now. Spoiling is easily reversed—and I would retrain you myself. I would even take pleasure in it. I’d collar you, for starters. Perhaps humiliate you—just for fun—to show you who is in charge. Then teach this hot little body to obey its master.” 

My pulse is racing—my heart in my throat—he cannot mean to do all this to me tomorrow, can he? My entire body shakes and quivers in fear. 

“Please—I only wish to please you—” I start, dropping my gaze. 

“And you _will_. But for now, give that silver giant what he wants. Keep in mind, tomorrow will be nothing as gentle as it is today, little one, and I hope he _hurts_ you.” 

He releases his hold on my neck and my chin, and I bow stiffly, then scurry away—practically running to Rai’s table.

“Did you get enough to eat? You look a little pale,” Rai says, glancing at Shiki.

“Could you hear what he said?” 

“I couldn’t,” Rai replies. 

I shake my head, as though clearing my ears from that experience completely. What _was_ that? Perhaps he was teasing me? I look up at the pale blue eyes before me. “Will you dance?” 

He stands immediately and offers his arm. 

Perhaps it's from our earlier bond, but I know where his feet are going even before they do—even when he isn’t touching my waist. It’s very strange. I can tell when he wants to spin me or dip me, and it makes for an oddly well-coordinated dance.

“How are you doing that?” he murmurs, and he sounds rather fascinated. 

“I think it’s from the bond we formed before,” I explain lightly. “My feet just seem to know where to go before my brain does.”

“You are quite the dancer—I was watching you earlier with the tiger cat—and you move well. It was quite pleasant to watch you but it's even nicer to dance with you,” Rai smiles down at me. 

He takes me around the dance floor for another song or two and then grabs me another glass of wine. I’m having a hard time staying upright at this point—I’ve had a lot to drink—but I’m honestly a little frightened.

“Perhaps we should get you some water instead?” he asks.

I nod—an exaggerated motion of my head that makes the world spin. 

He fetches me a glass of water, while I lean up against the wall, breathing heavily—trying to push Shiki’s words and images from my mind. What if that is _really_ what Rai wants, too—and he just told me what I wanted to hear to soothe me and help me not be quite so afraid? What if he takes advantage of me—and of my drunkenness—and I am terribly drunk, foolishly so—once he gets me back to my room? What if we go to _his_ room? 

I realize my hands are trembling when he hands me the glass of cold water—I see the liquid sloshing around in the glass, and he looks at me curiously.

“Now, either you are much drunker than you appear or you are scared out of your wits,” he says quietly, under his breath, stepping a little bit closer to me. “Do you need a little assistance? I’d hate for you to spill on your lovely outfit.” He steadies my hands so I can take a drink. “Did you get an early start upstairs? Because I have been watching. You couldn’t have had more than three glasses of wine while you have been here, could you?”

He runs his claws through the fur on my ears—and it feels gentle and tender. It really feels nice, and to my shock, I am pushing my head back into his hands—willingly. He seems very pleased that I am responding this way. 

“Would you like to dance some more? Would you like anything else to eat or drink? Or… would you like to go back to my room?” 

 _His_ room? He did say _his_ room? 

I look up at his face—and his eyes are very soft, sparkling in the low light. 

I am taking too long to answer—simply staring at him—but he is very patient with me. I am, truthfully, captivated by him. He looks beautiful, dressed in pale and dark blue and black silk brocade, which accents his blue eyes and sets off his silver hair, currently pulled back in a low ponytail like mine is. Only his hair is much longer—almost down to his waist. It looks gorgeous in the low light. He also wears a delicate silver circlet on his head—that’s right—he earned himself a promotion to a prince when he fought for the right to come here, my drink-addled brain remembers.

But I realize I have taken much too long to answer when my parents suddenly materialize at our side. 

“It seems my son has tired himself out with all the dancing and socializing,” Dad says. “Please, won’t you see to his needs for this evening? We can trust his wellbeing to you, can’t we?” I notice Dad’s green eyes have a rather fierce look in them—much more fierce than his gentle face usually has, and Rai almost flinches.

“Of course. I would dream of nothing else. I will treat him with respect, tenderness, and love,” Rai says. 

“Thank you,” Dad replies. 

“If you’d treat him with more respect, tenderness, and love than he _deserves_ , we would be very grateful,” Papa says, almost under his breath. “He can be such a handful sometimes.” 

“That’s only because he is frightened,” Dad retorts. 

I look down, embarrassed—ashamed of my behavior and of my arguing parents—that they are fighting about my behavior in front of the person about to take my virginity. Is that really what is about to happen? I’m terrified—but this doesn’t quite feel real.

Dad kisses my ears gently. 

“Konoe, you will be fine. Do not worry—this is a _kind_ Touga. I could tell by how you fought together. You need to only remember your bond.” He leans in closer and whispers in my ear, though Rai must be able to hear him, “I think he may be the one.” 

Then, Papa pulls me in for a hug. It’s so rare for him to touch me—and his body is strangely stiff. But I think he might be holding back tears. It’s confusing and strange—and I do not understand him at that moment.

“You are _lucky_  he drew the first straw. Don’t waste it. Be _kind_ to him, Konoe. Show him you are grateful, show him affection, and make him love you.” 

 _Grateful_? I want to spit. I like Rai—I really do—but the fact that Papa is _telling_ me to be grateful really makes me want to rebel! I _hate_ this! 

“Please, don’t worry,” Rai says. “I will be gentle.” He strokes my ears, and then—to my surprise, sweeps me off my feet. “Come.” 

My stomach lurches fearfully—and the last thing I see when I leave the room is Shiki’s face, seething with jealousy. I duck my head, trying to avoid his stare.


	5. Setsura v. Sisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's try that again.
> 
> First rule, never post smut at 1 AM.
> 
> This is a much-needed lovey-dovey chapter between Rai and our spoiled, drunk little prince, after his not-very-fun first evening of banquets.

Rai carries me bridal style in his arms over the threshold of his room. I have been pressing my nose against his chest, taking relaxing breaths and inhaling his scent, trying to calm my racing heart.

Taking in his scent is having several effects on my body. First, it is easing some of my anxiety—and I have a _lot_ of anxiety. My pulse is still racing—I’m scared to death of what is to come, despite what Rai has promised: not to do anything to me that I don’t wish. But second, I think, after taking in another lungful of his scent, it is also heating my body up in my overly drunken state. I know for sure that my pulse is racing for reasons _other_ than fear. I’m hard between my legs, and my ears feel strangely hot.

I have my eyes mostly closed, but I open them partway when another softer fragrance hits my nose. It’s softly floral, and it seems out of place.

I’m slightly stunned with what I see in Rai’s room.

There’s not a fire or candle to be seen anywhere—only guiding leaves light the space, casting a pale glow everywhere. But instead of a green hue, these leaves light a warm, yellow tone, almost as candlelight does. I open my eyes wide to confirm—and they are definitely guiding leaves, floating in small dishes of water—but instead of rounded edges, like the leaves I’m used to seeing, these leaves are slightly pointed, like those from a maple tree. Perhaps it’s a different species? And they cast a different color of light?

I’m rather spellbound by its romantic feel.

And the floral scent—it’s from dozens and dozens of flowers that decorate the space. I see mostly white flowers, lilies, roses, tuberoses, gardenias, honeysuckle, and jasmine—all fragrant and beautifully arranged in bouquets and dishes—and then—I see petals strewn on the floor, leading to the bed, which is simply blanketed in flowers. It's gorgeous.

"Is this... for me?" I ask. 

Rai sets me down on a soft, velvet sofa, and he pours me a glass of something to drink—I expect it to be wine, but it sparkles on my tongue and tastes slightly sour, like citrus. Lemons? Is it sparkling lemonade? It’s delicious and refreshing—definitely not alcoholic.

“I think your grace has had enough wine for the evening,” Rai murmurs softly, bending to one knee, and slipping off my shoe. I remember when he pulled off my boots earlier today. It felt so nice—and he is massaging the sole of my foot through my stocking again—but this time, it’s doing something strange to my body—pulling almost painfully in my waist—when he touches me like this—and a strange indulgent meowing sound slips embarrassingly from between my lips before I can stop it.

“May I undress you?” His voice is soft and gentle, and I nod my head—I want to feel his hands touch me more—though I am frightened.

He removes my vest gently, one ruby button at a time, watching my face as he undresses me—doesn’t he realize that he is doing a _servant’s_ job? The way he looks into my eyes when touches me—his eyes are smoldering with heat, and I can feel his desire for me—that's not very much like how my servants undress me, however. It reminds me of the same feelings I felt through our bond when we were connected in the arena earlier today. 

It intimidates me—frightens me—and starts to terrify me when he moves to unbuckle my belt and strip off my breeches—which he does much more quickly than I expect. I move my hand and place it on top of his when he gets to my cravat—and his pupils blow dark and wide—taking my breath away. His eyes are pale blue, and seeing them so dark like this has another strange effect on me, making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

“Wait—Please—won’t you wait—or slow down—please?” I beg softly, trying to cover the tears the quavering in my voice. I’m barely able to form the words. 

Rai pulls the silk cravat from my neck, casts it aside, and then takes my face between his hands, cradling my cheeks and chin in his hands. 

“Do you still fear me? After all we've done together today? Have I still not earned your trust?”

 I stammer a sound or two—unsure of myself, unsure of my feelings.

“I-I...”

"Silly kitten,” he murmurs, touching my nose softly with his finger—and that makes me blink my eyes closed suddenly. “Do you not want me to touch you?”

“Th-that’s not...” I _do_ want him to touch me! I want it very much! I'm just _so_ confused.

Slowly, he drags his claws down very lightly the sides of my silk shirt. It feels amazing—especially when he brings one toward the front of my hips and one toward the base of my tail, which fluffs out fully in direct response. I sit up suddenly, moaning loudly, when he opens his hand and presses his palm on the front of my underwear. I can't say that I've ever been touched quite like this before—I've never even touched _myself_ like this before. Thick drops of some kind of fluid seep through the fabric right beneath his hand, and he gazes down at me, looking at me—my face, my chest, my groin, my bare thighs—with clear desire in his eyes. 

“That was _not_ the sound of a cat who does not wish to be touched,” he whispers lowly, into one of my ears. “Let me _at least_ touch you, for a little while. We will go slow and it will feel good. What are you afraid of, exactly? Can you tell me?”

I feel tears burn shamefully in the corner of my eyes.

“Pain,” I confess—and another mewling sound comes from my mouth without my consent as one of my stockings is stripped slowly from my calf. Rai is removing it with his teeth! My gods—watching him is an amazingly sexy sight. He pulls the other stocking off as well, leaving me shivering in my blouse and underwear.

“Ah—you mean,” Rai says, gently stroking my legs on his lap, “you are afraid of me taking you—of _entering_ you—here?”

To my shock, he brushes his fingers just below my tail, sending delightful shivers racing up my spine that make me salivate—and an actual full _meow_ comes out of my mouth. I cover it much too late, though I press both my hands in front of my mouth in embarrassment. 

He takes my wrists away from my mouth, placing my hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t,” he growls. “Please—I want to hear you. I came all this way to hear your voice. It drives me crazy—it gets me going—it sinks into my very soul, Konoe. Don’t hold back your voice.”

I fluff up my fur in response to this earnest request—I can hardly deny him.

“I told you—I wouldn’t do anything to you to hurt you or anything that would cause you pain or discomfort.” He begins busily unbuttoning my blouse, licking my chest and kissing my belly as he strips the fabric from my body, watching my response carefully. I’m making all kinds of lewd noises that I can’t seem to repress—and because of his request, I no longer try. In between his grooming licks, he says, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, my precious Sanga. I only wish to please you.”

“P-please me?” I ask, breathlessly. “A-am I n-not s-supposed to b-be s-submitting t-to _your_ every whim and w-wish t-tonight?”

“It does not please me to force you,” Rai says, kissing my nipple and pulling it slightly with his teeth. I did not know something like that could send pleasure to my hips—and it does.

My body is suddenly lifted, and I am moved to the bed. Beneath my back, I feel dozens and dozens of velvet-soft petals—and my nose is assaulted with sweet, fresh scent of flowers. It’s such a strange sensation. I stretch out on top of the bed, letting the petals cover my body and the fragrance overwhelm me—and I close my eyes for a moment.

“Do you like that?” Rai is watching me indulge in my senses, and I feel a little embarrassed, my ears heating up. He takes a handful of petals and sprinkles them over my body, watching them fall like large snowflakes. Then he steps away from the bed for a moment. 

I sit up to watch him—curious. He takes a seat in a chair to remove his boots, watching me. 

Maintaining eye contact, he performs a short but sexy strip routine—I’m amazed at how comfortable this cat is with his body. He has an amazing shape, of course—but he must be so much more experienced than I am, I think, my ears drooping slightly. He strips off his coat and his blouse boldly—keeping his eyes locked on me. Then he pulls off  his belt, making it snap loudly in the air. The sound makes my ears twitch—and also, my ass quiver slightly—though I know he is only teasing. He slides his pants off his narrow hips—and I’m licking my lips again—and he even slips out of his underwear before he’s returned the bed, kissing my lips.

I’m purring loudly, humming, moaning into his mouth, my hands in his hair, undoing his ponytail and letting the sweet fragrance of his hair sweep around me and mix with the flowers. For some reason, his scent is even more pleasing to me than those flowers. I can feel him pressing against me. He is so much bigger than me—and I shiver thinking about it. 

I _want_ to give myself to him—I _want_ him to take my virginity. Out of all of them— _he_ should be the one—I know he would show the most kindness—but I am so afraid of the pain! Even when he strokes my tail and my fur bristles out in desire. Even if he touches the place just below my tail and my back arches back into his hand—I feel tears burn, and I hear myself begging. 

“No—please—no—I just can’t...”

Right into his mouth! I’m so afraid!

He pulls my hair loose, runs his claws through it, inhales the scent at my neck and whispers, “It’s all right, Konoe—we will do _whatever_ you wish. We can do... many _other_ things. I only want to give you pleasure, and I want you to trust me. Is that all right? May I touch you? Here?” He brushes his hand across my groin again, and I tremble, my legs stiffen and my body jerks, but I nod my head.

I’m shaking violently when Rai pulls off my underwear, leaving us both nude, and he’s hovering above me on his knees, his legs on either side of mine. He pushes his hips down on top of mine—pressing me against the bed, against those petals—which are now crushed against my bare skin. I feel his hands wrap around my dick—firmly—and I am being pressed against him—against his erection—and it feels so hard and so smooth—and so slick. I feel like I am losing my ability to breathe or even think.

Another desperate meow slips out of my mouth—is he _this_ excited because of me? Does he want me so much? My small body? A cat who looks like _him_ —who fights like him and could have anyone he wanted—is so hard, erect, and dripping because of _me_?

Chills shoot down my spine, down the length of my tail, which is desperate and trapped between my legs—and wraps itself around his thigh.

“Ah—Rai,” I whisper, completely overwhelmed. He is grabbing me hard, stroking me hard, pressing his thumb into the tip of my dick, squeezing out more precum to add to our combined lubrication, making me keen and purr and growl and hiss—all these lewd sounds drip from my mouth as much as the fluids drip from my cock.

My ears flatten against my head, but my fur completely bristles, and I briefly cast a glance into his eyes, through my dark lashes. Blue eyes are staring down into mine as if he is taking something from me—as if he greedily is scooping raw emotion from my body—and then, when our eyes meet—I feel our bond vibrating—as tight as a bowstring.

Each minuscule movement from him sends a ripple of emotion flooding into my system—and it’s mostly desire—a heated, lust-filled passion that matches his stature that frankly scares the living shit out of me and makes me tremble—makes me think I’m a fool to put my body anywhere near his hands, much less in the same room. It’s like he wants to _devour_ me—and he very well could if he so desired. 

He quirks a smile at my realization and my frightened reaction and strokes my ears with the intent of comforting me—but instead, it makes me flinch and ruffle up my fur defensively—until the sound of his voice drips into my ears like the sweetest honey. The sound of that low purring voice—low to the point of a growl—sinks into the depths of the soft, pure white fur bristled in my ears that longs for his touch. It’s reaching out for him—my eardrums vibrate to the music that is the sweet timbre of his voice. It softens my heart, sinks into my very soul, and relaxes my body, and never have I responded so viscerally to the sound of anyone's voice.

I feel like putty to be molded beneath his fingers—beneath the touch of his hands—beneath his lips and tongue, to the sound of his voice. I sigh out loud—almost in relief—when I hear him speak.

“Don’t be frightened, Konoe. I would never hurt you—unless you begged me to,” and he squeezes the base of my tail when he says the word “begged.” “I know you can feel our bond and I’m asking you to trust me now. You protected me with that gorgeous song today. I want to not only protect your body but cherish it, worship it, adore it—pleasure it. More than anything I’ve ever wanted, I want to adore you, my little Sanga! Let me spoil you tonight.”

My hips are moving on their own—and Gods—when I said I have _no_ experience—let me be clear: I’ve had several racy dreams and been mildly aroused while grooming my tail or while bathing myself. But Sangas of Sisa are heavily discouraged from touching themselves in _any_ way to keep themselves “pure.” When I was nine, I saw an older classmate severely strapped for touching himself during a shower—a classmate walked in on him—and I swore his punishment would never be mine.

So Rai’s touch is a completely new and completely overwhelming experience—and it’s absolutely wonderful. The boundary between my body and his is blurring, too, because of our bond—I can sense how pleased he is watching me get swept away—yet I want to stay present in the moment with him—and pay attention to him.

I am straining to connect, my body shaking, straining to keep my eyes open, and I throw my useless arms around his powerful shoulders and kiss him—sighing into the kiss—his tongue entering my mouth—and I wonder—is _this_ all I’m worried about? Is what I’m so frightened of actually more like a kiss? Because my mouth certainly stretches easily enough: making room for him, allowing him to explore my teeth, even touch the tips of my fangs, and nip my lips.

But what he is doing with his hands is making it hard for me to breathe. He feels so hard—so hot—and so large pressed up against me—and his strokes are getting smoother and slicker. I can feel the details of his anatomy as he is pressing himself against me: a vein—it must be on the outside of him—pulsing wildly on the outside of my cock.

At first, I was shocked and intimidated by our difference in size—I could _not_ believe the size of him. Except our bond allows me to feel what he feels—and he feels nothing but a desire for me—as a cat _and_ as a man. So I allow myself to enjoy him—bask and revel in these feelings—which he, in turn, feels across our bond—as our emotions flow both ways—and I hear him making some awfully sexy sounding purrs and lusty growls that make my ears twitch. 

Before I know it, a giant, amazing surge draws near, and he is urging me toward the edge. He strokes the tip of my tail—it’s flicking slightly, desperate, confused, and wrapped around his thigh probably more tightly than is comfortable, and I feel his nails comb through the tip. 

“It’s all right, Konoe,” he whispers hotly. “Relax—and come for me.” And he delves deep into my ear with his tongue. 

When he commands me like that, my voice lets loose in a near scream.

My vision flashes white and tears flow instinctively from my eyes—my tail releases itself from Rai’s thigh and thrashes about wildly, only to be caught and entangled in his own soft fluffy one. The pool of pleasure that has built up to a near painful level in my hips spills over completely—and literally—into Rai’s fist, making his movements even smoother as he strokes me to completion. 

I hear him grunt as he climaxes—and I open my eyes as pleasure floods my body—into my arms and legs, back and shoulders, even into the tips of my fingers and toes, and the very tips of my ears and tail, making them quiver—making me tremble and shiver all over. I am met with eyes filled with yearning and passion as he releases into his hand, spilling thick ribbons of white fluid onto my belly. I blink slowly as I recover—relishing the feeling—and watching him indulge in his own pleasure.

He leans down to take my lips—firm and gentle—sweeping through my mouth with his tongue—as though claiming me. He is so very careful not to crush me with his body—getting up to fetch a warm cloth, wiping down my exhausted body gently before I can even protest, them pulling my naked form up against his chest and grooming my ears in long slow strokes.

I feel him plucking petals from my hair gently as he goes, and he whispers, “You enchant me, Konoe.”

I settle in his arms, stretching out my body so as much of skin touches his as possible: my back to his chest, my butt to his hips, the backs of my thighs and knees to the tops of his thighs and knees, and my calves to his lower legs. I even settle the soles of my feet on top of his feet, humming contentedly. I’ve never felt so good in all my life. Perhaps I should say something, but I find I am drifting off to sleep.

“Thank you for treating me with such kindness,” I murmur. It’s all I can manage, stifling a yawn.

“You are my precious Sanga and deserve nothing less,” Rai says into an ear, as he gives the tip a playful nip. I drift off into a restful slumber.

 

 

 


	6. Against the tide of tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes in Rai's room after a wonderful first experience. He has a great plan to talk to his parents about canceling the rest of the ceremony since he's sure he's found The One.
> 
> However, once Konoe gets to his parents, they do not agree. It would be a snub to the other countries if he didn't even give the other Tougas a chance. Even Shui is able to see through Konoe's best waterworks.
> 
> The morning doesn't quite go as our poor little Sanga prince hopes.

After last night’s experience with Rai, I wake—in his chamber—feeling amazingly rested and renewed—and unfortunately, full of pep and spunk. I feel a lot like my old self. I have already made my decision on which Touga I will choose, and I realize all I need to do is tell my parents. 

There is really no need to go through the rest of this selection process. 

There is a giant cat warming me—he sleeps so silently—though maybe that is normal, I don’t know. I haven’t shared a bed since I was very small and crawled in with my parents after a nightmare. They, of course, tried to discourage me after I could walk, but even when I was seven I would sometimes join them after a particularly bad dream—although even at that age and in the middle of the night, I knew to look very carefully for Dad’s red hair, in case I woke him from his sound sleep. He would never be angry at me and always welcomed me with open arms. Truthfully, I can’t ever remember Papa being angry with me in the night because I woke him, though I do remember being scolded the next morning.

Now, I think I understand why—the state of my body is not the same as it usually is. I am rather surprised to find that even after having done what we did together—instead of cooling my desire it has heated my body up in ways I never thought possible. Shouldn’t it have soothed me? Why am I already hard again?

I shift in the bed, a little uncomfortably—and I realize I’m not the only one suffering from my condition. I can feel Rai pressing up against me from behind—and not at all subtly. I thought at first—well, I’m not sure what I thought it was—but he is definitely nestled soundly behind me—snugly between my cheeks. I don’t know if I thought he was resting his hand there? But there is no _way_ that is his hand. His hands are not shaped that way. My body coats itself in a fine layer of sweat, and I swallow thickly. 

I’m finding myself terribly embarrassed now—since I realize I am completely nude. I _never_ sleep naked. I don’t even walk around in my quarters naked—I mean, I was trained _not_ to, for fear of rousing whatever passion would need tending and therefore tainting my purity—and so, I feel a blush burning in my cheeks and ears.

Once the blush settles into my ears, I feel a slight puff of air against the soft fur of my ears, and I hear a soft purring chuckle.

“Did you sleep well? You sleep like the dead. It’s a little unnerving. I could have done whatever I wished and you’d never have woken.” 

Hearing those words—in that voice—this morning, when I’m in this state—does nothing to curb my desire, and my body stiffens slightly. I do not know what I’m supposed to do. Except I know I need to talk to my parents before breakfast.

“I-I need to talk to m-my parents,” I stammer, thinking I might just slide out of the bed. But my clothes are clear across the room, I realize—and the room is so bright already—the rays from the morning moon of light flowing in from the skylights. I feel one hand stroking the fur on my ears, and another combing softly through the fur on my tail, soothingly. Strangely, this helps me relax a little bit, as ashamed as I feel.

“Last night, y-you lit your space with guiding leaves,” I say softly, still unable to look at him. I’m trying to find an appropriate conversation topic—what can I even say right now?

“I did,” Rai says. “You dislike fire, don’t you? I thought it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’ve never seen guiding leaves that color before.” 

“Ah—they are a specialty—well, not really a specialty, I suppose—more like a local variety—in my country. There are great groves of them that grow wild there.”

“In trees?” I ask, amazed. “I thought they grew as small plants.” 

“This variety grows as trees.” 

“I’ve never see guiding trees in the wild,” I murmur. “I bet they are lovely at night.” 

“They are,” Rai says, and he lowers his voice to a whisper. “I should love to show you, sometime. I would love to kiss you under those guiding trees—for they let off a beautiful soft light for travelers, at night.”

A shiver ruffles through my fur, rippling through my back and shoulders, down my spine and fluffing up my tail. I think I would like him to do quite a bit more than just kiss me. 

“I need to speak to my parents, urgently.” 

Rai turns onto his back, looking at me. “All right. Would you like me to come with you?”

“N-no,” I say. If my conversation to stop the selection process doesn’t smoothly, I plan to be throwing the biggest fit of my life, and I like Rai—a _lot_. I think I would rather not let him experience this side of me. I think I’d be embarrassed to show him this childish behavior—but this is how I get things done at the castle—I don’t really know any other way, and it’s of the utmost importance. 

He watches me for a bit, as I lie curled up shyly on my side, a small smirk on his face. 

“Do you need help getting dressed?” he finally asks.

“Um, no—I can dress myself,” I insist—but even that comes out as sort of pouty.

“What’s the delay? Do you want me to get up first?” 

“No!” That would be much worse—much too distracting, I think—I’d have to watch him, and I couldn’t handle that.

“Ah—are you just being shy?” he whispers the words directly into my ear. “Konoe, did you forget what we did last night? I not only saw but I also touched those parts of yourself that are likely feeling shy about.”

“I know that!” I snap. “I’m not making any sense!” 

“And your ears are very pink—I thought it was from the alcohol last night—but could it be that your ears blush when you’re feeling embarrassed and shy?” 

“You don’t have to say it out loud!” I exclaim. Now I’m feeling slightly annoyed.

“Would you like me to fetch your clothes, or a robe, for you, Your Grace?” He runs his fingers along my body—from my ears all the way to my hip—tracing the line of my shape. I am not watching his face, but I feel his eyes on me—and I also feel all the hair on my body responding to his touch. It’s following his fingers, standing up in a wave, rippling right along with his fingers, fluffing itself out, despite my rather sulky utterances.

“Yes, please!” I blurt—almost desperately, hiding my face in my hands. “Please, a robe would be nice.” I can’t _stand_ this. How can he be so comfortable with himself after last night? I still hear those strange meowing sighs I was making—mixed with that lewd purring—it’s echoing in my ears—and how I was at his complete mercy. 

Truthfully, I would have done _anything_ he asked—if he had asked. I wonder if he knows this. It’s almost painful—in fact, it _is_ painful—like something tearing deep in my chest—when I feel his weight move from behind me and lift up off the bed. I don’t want him to get up. I don’t watch, but I can hear his soft footsteps—strangely light, almost no sound whatsoever, in fact—padding to the wardrobe—where he pulls out a robe and slippers for me.

“Are you sure you want to go now?” he whispers, as soon as he comes back to the bed and sits next to me. He unfairly runs his fingers through my hair.

“Um… I don’t want to, but I have some urgent business I need to discuss with my fathers. Very urgent. I want to see you again, Rai. And I need to ask—would you consider seeing me again? Did I… please you enough to want to see me again?”

Rai tips my face up toward his, so I have to meet his eyes. He has that same look as he had last night in those pale blue eyes—passionate and soft—and so sexy. His white mane is dripping over his shoulder—none of it knotted even the least like it never dares to misbehave for him—and he smiles at me.

“You did more than please me, Konoe. You thrill me. I’d be proud to be your Touga.” 

He watches my response—another visceral one, as should be expected when he uses that soft voice and sexy words—and he boldly kisses me on the lips. It takes me by surprise—that he would dare kiss me without permission—although we are technically still in his chambers, and this is about me pleasing him—which I… really haven’t done.

He has been terribly kind and patient with me. That gentle kiss draws tears from my eyes and I am stabbed with guilt. It makes me want to be kinder to him—and it makes me want him even more.

I slip my arms into the robe and try to fold it at the waist—it’s a yukata, designed for cats of any size, as we have many guests at the castle—and since I have assistants who help me dress, I am unable to do this on my own. I am small, and I have never done this alone. I try several times and fail, and Rai finally asks, “I know you do not like asking for help—but may I help you?”

I sigh irritatedly and roll my eyes, and I earn myself a chuckle. I look at him sharply—wondering why on earth my response earned me laughter, and he kisses me softly.

“You are quite the spoiled little prince, Konoe.” Then he rather roughly pulls the fabric of the robe up so it won’t drag on the floor—but when he does so, my entire body is pulled against his chest—he has me facing the mirror, and he is standing behind me. He freely slips his hands inside the robe, too—touching my skin softly, making as if to straighten the fabric but instead stroking my skin, and making me sigh and purr.

“Th-that is n-not helping…” I protest. 

“What?” he asks, smirking slightly. He wraps the obi around my waist, securing it around my slim waist and tying it tightly. “You look perfect, and yet you still complain? You are a hard master. Did you wake with a headache this morning? Perhaps did you imbibe too much?”

“No!” I snap again, but he presses a glass of that sparkling lemonade into my hands without being offended.

“Drink it,” he says, low and commanding. “It will replenish some of the electrolytes in your system. You are too petite to be drinking that much, little one.”

I obey, looking up at him through my lashes, and he simply watches me, his tail floating in front of his waist. And why am I staring there? How can he stand before me so boldly, nude, and tell me what to do?

However—if I do choose him, I will serve him as a Sanga. I will _have_ to obey him. I may rule my own kingdom, but I will have to obey him—in matters of war, in battle, in the bedroom. Am I really okay with that?

My heart screams _yes_ —even though it’s been less than 24 hours that I’ve met him. I feel like a fool! 

“I must speak to my parents,” I say again.

He smiles gently. “So you’ve said. And yet… you’re still here with me. I wonder if you’re not really ready to go yet. Perhaps there’s something else you want with me.”

“No!” I insist—a little too quickly, and my face lights up pink immediately—and he reaches out to me, enveloping me in his arms. 

“I'm sorry. I tease you too much,” he whispers. “I can’t help myself. You’re just too adorable. You’re too spoiled, and I am dying to spoil you more. The idea that I have to wait four more days to be so close to you again… I can’t stand it. I may catch you unawares, lurk outside your bedroom.”

“You may wait _in_ my bedroom if you wish,” I offer softly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

I see his small, rounded ears flick up in surprise and definite delight.

“Go now. I know you said you have to speak to your parents. Before I change my mind about allowing you to leave.”

 

* * *

 

“But why??” My voice is the whiniest, most pathetic I can produce, and the tears are at the ready. “I’ve done everything you asked, and I _pleased_ him—Dad—Papa—please—there is no need for the rest of it. It will only be diluting my purity, won’t it?”

“Konoe, if we’ve invited them to our kingdom and we don’t follow through on our offerings, it will be a snub to their countries,” Dad says, his voice surprisingly firm.

“It could be a reason to start a war. And we are not going to war because of _your_ unwillingness to submit and obey!” Papa warns.

“But I’ve already made my choice!” The tears start falling from my cheeks, and I drop to my knees now—a truly humble posture, I think. I look up at Dad, so he can see I am crying. “There will _never_ be another Touga for me than Rai! I’m afraid I may not be able to sing for another Touga, Dad!”

Papa grabs my chin, pointing it to his face.

“Goddamnit, Konoe!” His voice is hard, though not as loud as he can sometimes get. He absolutely _hates_ it when I try to manipulate Dad. “You had better not try anything like that. If you don’t try your best with the next Touga, you’re going to be in worse trouble than I could ever cause for you!”

His words actually frighten me—and my ears flatten against my skull.

“Sweetheart,” Dad uses that special term of endearment again, “the Meigi are known for being powerful magicians. That Touga, Shiki? He is probably a fighter who uses magic. And I didn’t hear what he said to you, but he was very upset he didn’t draw the first straw. He wanted your first night very much!”

“Dad! He _threatened_ me! He called me spoiled!”

“Honey, well…” Dad starts. 

“Konoe, it’s the truth!” Papa blurts.

My ears and tail droop.

“But… does that mean I deserve to be treated violently?” My voice drops to a nearly imperceptible level. “Do I deserve to be treated worse than a household pet or a slave? He said he would collar me, humiliate me, and make me serve him—” 

“It’s your role as the _Sanga_ to serve him,” Dad points out gently. “I don’t want him to treat you violently, but we cannot interfere as long as he does you no permanent damage.” 

“But when will you interfere? _After_ the damage? And what if… what if Rai doesn’t want me anymore after Shiki has ruined me?”

“Shiki won’t do that since he knows we would go to war with his kingdom if he did anything serious to you,” Papa says. 

“But if he’s a magician, couldn’t he magic away any damage?” I ask, becoming more and more desperate. 

“Konoe—you know there is _some_ pain involved now, don’t you? But it's not unbearable, right?” Dad asks. “If you relax into it, and rely on your bond—” but he stops there, looking at me closely.

“Konoe, you _did_ submit to Rai, didn’t you?” Papa asks. 

I’m still on my knees before both of them, and I don’t know what to say at this point.

“I did not fight him. I did what he required of me, y-yes.”

Papa and Dad exchange a glance, and Papa looks extremely displeased. Even Dad sighs.

“Did he let you get away with doing whatever you wanted?”

“Hell, did you even _have_ sex?” Papa asks. 

“I mean, what do you want? A detailed play by play? Come on, that’s _private_ , isn’t it?” I say, unable to raise my gaze.

This time, it’s Dad who approaches me and grabs my chin.

“Konoe, I think you’re going to regret the fact that you didn’t let Rai take your virginity. He would have been the kindest to you.” 

“W-well, if I h-hurry back n-now…”  
  
“So you _didn’t_? Did you _resist_?” Papa asks, his voice rising. “You promised both of us you wouldn’t resist any of their advances. And you _know_ what the consequences of that are, don’t you?”

“Please!” I beg—the last thing I want is another whipping. Especially not if I have to deal with Shiki today. I burst into tears—real sobs now. “I was drunk—I had too much to drink—”

“That is nothing new,” Papa says, and he starts removing his belt. My body is drenched in cold sweat when I hear the clinking of the buckle, and I crouch down low to the floor, hiding my ass as best I can. 

“Please—wait—you _have_ to understand—he said— _Rai_ said—he told me—he only wanted what _I_ wanted. He didn’t want to force me, he didn’t want to bribe me or coerce me—and I _tried_ —I really did try!”

“So what _exactly_ happened, Konoe?” Dad asks. And shit—he used my _name_ —my _given_ name—not a term of endearment. That means even _he_ is disappointed in me. There will be no way out of this now if even _Dad_ is upset with me. The tears are no longer forced. I’m really frightened—terrified—since I don’t think I did anything wrong! I really _did_ please him! Words start tumbling desperately from my lips. 

“Please—I submitted to everything he asked—I really did my best—but he asked for my _consent_ —he actually wanted my consent—from everything to removing my clothes to moving me to the bed—to kissing me and even touching me. He asked why I was afraid, and I told him. I was _honest_. He said that we might do _other_ things than, erm, penetrative sex, and he was happy. I left him _pleased_ with me. He actually said he would be delighted if I chose him, he would be delighted to serve me as a Touga.”

“But of course he _has_ to say that, Konoe,” Papa says, his voice still hard and unmoved. “It’s why he is here.” 

“No—Papa—he really meant it—we can ask him if you don't believe me!” I’m kicking myself for not bringing him with me. “I want to choose him as my forever partner—I think I _love_ him! I felt our bond during the entire experience—I could feel his emotions, his feelings—during the entire experience—and they were much more powerful than mine. But I think it’s because everything was so new to me—”

“Konoe, you still haven’t told us exactly what you _did_. Did you serve him orally at least?” Dad asks, pinching his forehead with his fingers.

Orally? Like with my mouth? Is such a thing possible? Shouldn’t someone have _told_ me what was expected of me before the actual night—at least briefed me, so I would know if what I was doing was enough?

“N-no,” I stammer. “I d-didn’t know such a thing was possible, but I would have if I had known! Why was I so uninformed? Couldn’t you have _told_ me?” This is hardly my fault! But wait—no—Rai himself was pleased—I felt it myself! He was happy with me. “No—this is wrong—Dad, Papa—he was _happy_ with me. He was _pleased_ with me.” 

“So—what did you do? Did you get him off with your hand?”

“Not exactly—I’m not sure h-how to d-describe it—” I swallow hard, looking down at the floor, my body nearly flat against the ground, my ass as close to my legs as I can get it, protecting myself as much as possible. I’m afraid—I’m afraid of punishment.

“You’d better speak up, son, and do it soon,” warns Papa.

“Um, uh—we were both, um, n-naked—and in bed—together—and he, um, was, um, o-on t-top of m-me, and he t-took m-me in h-his h-hand and r-rubbed b-both of us t-together a-as one?” I stutter, spitting out the words desperately, utterly ashamed that I am spoiling our private special night—that wonderful night I shared with Rai.

“Ah,” Dad says. “I see.”

I dare to peek my eyes up at my father, just in time to see him rest his arm on Papa, who is taking a deep breath.

“And Rai, he was all right with this?” 

“You stayed with him all night?”

“Yes. I-I d-did,” I whisper, tears are still flowing. “I want to spend the rest of my life with him,” I whimper.

To my surprise, it’s Papa Leaks who approaches me now. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just cannot have you resisting these cats who have traveled all this way. If you pleased him— _truly_ pleased him—and you’re serious, I’m happy for the both of you. But this does _not_ absolve you from your commitment from the others. I am sorry. But the reason we keep you pure until this time is for _this very ceremony_. That way, you can experience sex and a temporary bond with four other cats aside from the one you choose. A lifetime is a _long_ commitment, Konoe, and you have to work at it. You won’t always feel this way—not even as handsome and wonderful as you find that silver cat now. It’s hard work—for the _both_ of you—especially for someone as strong-willed as you. You will have to obey him when you think he is in the wrong, submit to him when you don’t feel like it.”

“Yes—and you will have this experience to look back on and remember, ah, yes, this is why I chose him and not any of these others,” Dad says. “You need some experience.” 

I am weeping openly, my body wracked with sobs.

“But Shiki—the Meigi—he frightens me! I do not want him to hurt me!”

“Konoe.” Papa is clearly upset. “I don’t want him to hurt you, either. I think it was rather foolhardy of you to not allow Rai to… well, I mean, it was foolish to take advantage of his kindness. For Shiki—he will surely not be so kind to you.” 

“And there is nothing we can do to help you,” Dad says. “You must do your best.”

I am wailing now. 

“Please! I know he will kill me if he is given the chance!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, child! No Touga is stupid enough to start a war for the sake of a Sanga he has never even paired with,” Papa says.

“Do your best, and perhaps your bond will soften his heart,” Dad says. “I paired with a Meigi as well, and I was able to soften his heart. You will do the same. He looked a lot like Shiki, trying to intimidate me—but once he experienced the power of my song, he changed his tune, and decided he wanted to have me. He did his best for me in the bedroom. I bet you can change Shiki’s mind, too.”

“I don’t _want_ to change his mind! He _revolts_ me! He _disgusts_ me!” My voice is fading from the effort and tears I’ve put behind it.

“Konoe! Don’t you _dare_ say such things!” Papa yells, making my ears go flat. “If you even insinuate such a thing in the presence of any others, I will whip you in front of them for your insolence. Do you understand? That will be more humiliating than _anything_ he can do to you!”

“But—if I’ve already decided, what is even the point? Isn’t it just leading the others cats on, giving them false hope?” I whine. 

“No,” Dad says, his patience wearing thin. “As I already said—and I wish you were listening—it’s to build your experience for later in life when things get hard in the relationship you choose. You will remember these hardships and remember why you chose Rai over all these other cats. Listen, Konoe, and hear my words!” Even Dad is shouting at me now. 

“Now, go back to your chambers and get ready. You are already late for breakfast. Go prepare. Wash your face, and get your attitude adjusted, or I _will_ do it for you, and publicly, if I must.”

I believe Papa’s threat, and I scurry from the room.

But once I’m in the hall, I notice a few servants standing around, staring at me again, waiting to start wagging their jaws again. I’m miserable, casting my eyes at the ground.

I drag my feet to my room, taking my sweet time, and I miss breakfast deliberately. I don’t care—I don’t want to make an appearance at breakfast. As far as the rest of the Tougas know, I lost my virginity last night and I need to recover. It’s fine if I don’t appear. My servants aren’t in my room to help me dress, so I bathe carefully on my own. Rai has been so gentle with me—I see no marks on my body, save for a few leftover welts from where Papa whipped me the day before. The thought of another whipping, though, sends shivers down my spine. I cannot stand the idea of it! It would hurt the welts, possibly break these open, leaving new ones in their place. 

I had planned not to try at all—possibly pretending that I couldn’t sing for Shiki—perhaps I wouldn’t be able to sing for him at all. I’ve already bonded with Rai. But now, I think Papa would belt me publicly. I have sung for him—and Papa is a magician—so he _knows_ I would be faking. And I think Shiki would take it out on me in the evening.

Perhaps Dad has the right idea. I will do my best for Shiki—sing for him as best as I can, be my humble and charming self, and hope he will reciprocate—perhaps he will want to worship me in the bedroom. 

I feel sick thinking about it.

But nevertheless, I dress with care—choosing a deep red outfit today, thinking of his eyes. He enjoys black and red, I think. My slim breeches are red as is my jerkin, and my blouse is soft ivory silk. I plait my hair in a single braid. I wear knee-high black boots. I look good, I think—everything accents my body as it should—nothing is too flowy—in fact, the outfit is quite tight—and I leave my room, pleased with my look. 

Luckily, my face doesn’t swell even if I cry, so no one will know I was weeping just 30 minutes ago.

When I turn the corner just outside my door, however, a pair of strong arms catch me and pull me tightly, clutching me to a broad chest. It frightens me—especially with as edgy as I am feeling.

However—I am engulfed with a familiar, comforting scent—and long silver hair—and I realize it’s Rai, who has been waiting for me. 

“It’s not your turn today,” I murmur softly, and I lift up my chin to his face, hoping to steal a kiss. I’m obliged—with a deep kiss—long and possessive—while his hands wander down my body, skating down my sides directly to my ass, which is stroked softly. It makes my fur bristle even fluffier. He hums appreciatively into my mouth and smiles to break our mouths apart.

“I won’t tell if you don’t. How did the talk go?”

“Oh.” I glance away sadly. “Not as well as I hoped,” I admit. 

“I’m sorry.” He brushes his claws through my fur. “You look gorgeous today. Any Touga would be stupid to be unkind to you. It’s only four days—and you should enjoy your experience.”

“You’re not jealous?” I ask suddenly.

“Of course I’m jealous,” he answers, looking away from my curious gaze. “I hate the thought of another cat looking at you, much less touching you or kissing you. But I know why I am here. I know the purpose of this ceremony, and I cannot interfere. And the experience will be good for you—for us—later on, I think. I shouldn’t be your only experience.” 

“Why not?” 

“You need others to compare me to,” Rai says simply. “You’ll understand that I am indeed the best suited for your… needs.” He smiles—almost wickedly—at me. In a much lower voice, he adds, “And if you have time—afterwards—and the desire—you can always come to me. I will see to them.” 

I blush furiously.

“Aren’t you confident?” I blurt out, more than a little flustered. 

“I am indeed. What did you speak to your parents about?” he asks, gently stroking the fur at the base of my ears. 

“I wanted to tell them I’ve made my decision, so the rest of the ceremony was no longer needed.”

“I see,” Rai says. “And how did that go over?”

“Not well.” I look down, embarrassed.

“You didn’t want me to come with you for that?”

“Um, no. My style of persuasion isn’t one I’m particularly proud of—and it almost ended with another whipping.”

“What?” The soft smile disappears from his face. “Why?” 

“They thought I displeased you—that I resisted you—that I chose you because you didn’t… force me. I had to, er, explain what we did.” 

“Did your answer satisfy them? Would you like me to speak to them on your behalf? I’d be happy to do that. I am most pleased with you, you see.” He strokes me again—my ears—and now my tail—awfully close to the base. 

“I realize… I may have made a mistake,” I say, unable to meet his earnest gaze. “I wish I had… I should have allowed… I should have…”  
  
“What is this? Tears? No—I won’t have this. I wouldn’t have had our first evening together any other way, Konoe.” He leans down and licks the tears from my face. “Listen to me.”

He tips my chin up slightly so I have to meet his eyes. 

“You are very new to this. You cannot be expected to go from absolutely no sexual experience to penetrative sex with a stranger in a single day—even if you were able to sing for me. That is a lot to ask from someone your age. You’ve been required to keep yourself celibate—I bet with severe consequences from breaking those celibacy requirements—until this ceremony. But no one offered you any instructions, except what you’ve heard from other Sangas, right? So how things went between us was just perfect. Don’t have any regrets. I have none.”

“But now… someone else is going to… take my virginity!”

“No. _I_ took it. I took your virginity.” Rai looks down at me with a very determined look. “What we did was definitely sex, Konoe. You know it was—from the bond we had. You are no longer a virgin.”

“I mean—you would have been kind to me if I had let you…”  
  
“At some point, I’m sure I will enter you here, too.” He brushes his fingers lightly just below my tail. I realize that he has easy access to me there when he massages the base of my tail—is that why it feels so amazing when he touches my tail there? Am I missing out? I bristle again. “Don’t worry—I don’t mind waiting till you are ready.” 

“You don’t think I will be ruined?” 

“Silly kitten.” He kisses my top and bottom lip. “Did it seem like I was inexperienced to you last night?” 

“N-no.” But I tried not to think about his experience too much. 

“Did you think my experience ruined me?”

“No!” Truthfully, it was perfect. 

“I will feel the same way about yours.” Rai smiles at me warmly. “You should get to where you need to be—and separately from me.”

He kisses the tips of both of my ears and pats my bottom lightly. 

I rush down the hall, turning around to look at him, just before sneaking through a door to take a shortcut. He is still watching me, giving me a short wave of his hand. 

I think I can get through today—if I know for sure he will be waiting for me when this is all over, I can do this. I will do my best. 

I straighten my spine and walk toward the training area where I will meet today’s suitor.


	7. The second battle, or a battle of the wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe meets Shiki with his heart in the right place but finds today’s suitor less than pleased that Konoe has missed breakfast and wasn’t more eager for spending time with him.
> 
> Shiki decides to teach our spoiled Sanga a little lesson—dragging him back to his chamber to do so—which Konoe is unhappy and mortified to learn. Konoe’s day goes from bad to much worse. Thanks to Empressing for the “unadorned” idea, which I took a little differently.
> 
> Trigger warning: non-con touching and non-con spanking
> 
> Discipline not your thing? I’ll leave a summary at the end in the notes.

My confidence dissipates the moment I appear in the changing area of the arena when today’s suitor grabs me by the arm and throws me up against the wall. He pins me there, his rough breath softly moving the wisps of my artfully styled bangs, his strange red eyes peering down at me.

“Where were you at breakfast, my spoiled little prince? I was expecting your company and you left me hanging!” His tone is soft but awfully threatening, and it’s making me break out in a sweat.

“I am sorry, Shiki—” I try to explain, but he grabs my chin and cranes it upward so I have to meet his eyes, which I am trying to avoid.

“You will call me master today—for that is what a Touga is to a Sanga. Your purpose is to strengthen me, serve me, and you will be grateful for the opportunity,” he growls.

Really? How in a million cycles does this guy think I would _ever_ choose him out of all the others, who are anxious to partner with me? To my horror, a small sound of disgust—more like a clicking of my tongue—escapes from my lips. It was foolhardy, I admit, but I meant it. I couldn't help it!

The red eyes narrow above me.

“Did you just click your tongue at me?” 

“I did,” I admit, bravely. He cannot _hurt_ me, I’m pretty sure—not in my own kingdom. “Why do you think I would _ever_ choose a Touga who makes me call him master? That’s ridiculous!” 

“Today, little one, you are about to learn a very difficult lesson, but I am more than happy to teach you. _Delighted_ , in fact.” He steps a little closer to me, pressing his body up against mine, which makes me incredibly uncomfortable. “You are about to learn what it really means to be a Sanga.”

With that, he yanks my arm and pulls me out of the changing area, and I have to struggle to keep up with his long stride. 

“Wait!” I cry out. “We have the battles to perform!” 

“I have to _prepare_ you first,” Shiki mutters, and I strain my ears to hear his quiet voice. “I simply cannot work with you the way you are right now.”

“What way? What are you talking about?” I’m getting really nervous, and my body is trembling.

We enter one of the guest rooms—I’m assuming it’s his—and he locks the door behind us. 

“Wait,” I say, my voice quavering with fear. “This part—isn’t it supposed to come after dinner? I mean, we don’t even have my parents‘ blessing yet.”

“Listen, little Sanga, and listen well. I know you are used to getting everything you want when you want it. But that won’t be happening today. I will not partner with a spoiled brat. I don’t trust anyone who won’t do what I command when I command it—without delay.”

Tears fill my eyes when I hear these frightening words.

“Sh-er, master, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to displease you—”

“I don’t care about your intentions. I demand _obedience_. Now strip.”

My eyes widen. It’s nearly midday, and bright in here. I could never possibly do that in front of anyone!

I simply look at his face, and his red eyes bore into me. 

“I took such good care to dress in colors I thought you would prefer!” My voice is whining already.

“Your job today is to _please_ me. If you disobey my first command, I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget. I promise you this. You will never disobey me again.” 

That threat sounds very real. And so I take off my jerkin, looking down at the floor as I unbutton each one, looking for a place to put it. I end up folding it up and placing it on the floor. I slip out of my breeches the same way and pull off my stockings.

I glance up at Shiki, whose arms are folded and who is standing in a relaxed pose, watching me carefully.

“Go on. I won’t tell you again.” 

I unbutton the ivory silk blouse and slip it off my shoulders. The silk is very fine—and it feels so good touching me—perhaps it reminds me a little bit of Rai’s silky hair in both texture and color. Then, like Rai did this morning, I pull my tail in front of my body and slip out of my underwear, too. 

“Let your hair down, too,” Shiki says, still only watching me. 

My fingers trembling, I undo the braid in my hair, letting it fall down across my shoulders and back.

“I’ve brought some items to help your training,” Shiki says. 

I don’t reply or look up, but I feel a sharp slap on my behind. It’s humiliating—the sound, the way it jolts my body forward, and the small yelp that comes out of my mouth in response to the surprise and pain. Tears are really gathering in my eyes now.

“When I address you, you must acknowledge me. Say, ‘yes, master,’” Shiki says.

“Yes, master,” I reply instantly, still not raising my face.

“You are to be grateful for this training.”

“Yes, master. Thank you, master.” I have no idea of what is about to happen, but I just thanked him for it in advance.

“That’s a good boy.” He runs his fingers through my hair and ears. His touch revolts me, but I try not to flinch. “So lush and beautiful. Now then, my gifts.”

I feel something wrap around my neck and make a clicking sound. My fingers fly up, and something like a collar is wrapped around my neck! I’m shocked. I’m _not_ a pet—What _is_ this? How humiliating!

While my hands are touching the collar—it feels heavy but covered in leather on the outside—Shiki wraps cuffs around each of my wrists in turn. I do not fight him—I submit obediently, but the tears in my eyes want to fall. 

“One more pair,” Shiki mumbles—almost to himself—and he leans down to attach black leather cuffs to my ankles as well. I notice there are hooks and rings on the outside of the cuffs—even the one on my neck has those things. As I’m thinking those thoughts, he attaches a chain to my collar like a leash. This is horrible!

“Please,” I start, tears slipping down my cheeks, “Please, master, I don’t know how this happened or exactly what I did to make you treat me this way, but I only wish to please you. Please, give me a fair chance to prove myself to you, master!”

“You will be doing just that now, have no fear,” Shiki replies. “You just need to learn the rules up front, that’s all.”

“Rules? What rules??” I shudder as Shiki pushes me down to my knees.

“Lower your gaze, little Sanga,” he orders, and he strokes my ears. “Your fur is even softer than it looks.” He spreads my hair out over my shoulders, and I rest my tail in my lap for modesty—I _hate_ being nude in front of others—and my heart is racing furiously, my pulse pounding in my ears. My body is shaking uncontrollably, but on my knees, I feel slightly more steady. “Hands in your lap, good kitten. When you arrive in my chambers—either later tonight, or at any other time—this is how I want you. You are to appear unadorned before your Touga. This is what pleases me. It signals to me that you come ready to serve.”

But... I’m not really unadorned when I’m wearing this collar and these cuffs, am I? Somehow, they make me feel even more naked than I am already! I’m blushing hotly, keeping my gaze focused in front of me on the floor, concentrating on it as though something interesting is there. I’m still terribly frightened.

“Have I displeased you, master?” I ask quietly. “How can I make it right?”

“First, kitten—you must learn that you, as the Sanga, are to  _support_ to the Touga. As lovely as your voice is, I find it distracting. I don’t want you to speak unless you as spoken to. And when you are spoken to, you will acknowledge what you’ve heard me with the respect I am due. Respect is not valued highly in Sisa, I fear, and I will be doing you a favor in teaching it to you.”

“Y-yes, master,” I reply, my voice stammering slightly. “Th-thank you, sir.” 

He strokes my ears again, still standing behind me, which makes me terribly nervous. “As you may recall, I brought you here because you disappointed me with your tardiness and your lack of attention to me at this morning’s breakfast. I don’t care for your excuses. However—I’m rather surprised to see the state of your body. I was almost sure no one at this castle had ever raised a hand to you.”

“Master?” I ask—I’m not sure how to acknowledge what he just said—but I realize as his hand travels down my bare backside, tracing the welts slightly.

“Show them to me,” he says, in a quiet commanding voice. 

“Master?” I ask fearfully. I think I know what he wants, but I do not want to comply.

“Your welts. I want to see them.” 

“Please, master,” I start, and before I can beg anything else, I receive another smack to my ass—it isn’t terribly hard, but it hurts enough and is loud and humiliating. Shameful tears run down my face. I’ve _never_ been treated this way. 

“Little Sanga—you forget—this is a test for me, as well. Your job is to _submit_ to me and _obey_ me. You are not doing very well. I can force your obedience if you like,” he whispers threateningly in my ear—and he follows it with a lick. I hear him growl right afterward. “What’s this—your scent—it’s all wrong! What did that silver cat do to you? Did you see him _before_ you saw me? On the day you are meant to serve _me_?” 

Suddenly, my collar is yanked hard—and I am choked. I’m yanked roughly to my feet, and I try to scream. I lose my ability to breathe for a moment, and I’m pulled directly up to face Shiki’s usually attractive and pale face, which is currently drawn up in an angry sneer. 

“Tell me the truth—were you late because you spent time with the silver cat from Setsura? Did he keep you longer than he should have? You are _covered_ in his scent! Did you even bathe before seeing me?”

Keeping the collar tight, my feet nearly lifted off the floor and me gasping for air and clutching at the collar, Shiki slowly sniffs my neck. He should smell _me_ —not Rai—since I did bathe!

“I did bathe! I did prepare myself for you! Master!” My words come out in less than a whisper, since I’m barely getting enough air to breathe. I’m truly afraid he will kill me. “Please—release me! Master, _please_!”

“Tell me—what happened?” He finally sets me on the floor, and I take in a giant gasp of air—it makes me feel almost high, and my vision returns. Words spill from my mouth, like a river.

“When I came out of my room, the silver cat was there—and he kissed me and stroked my fur—and thanked me for last evening. That was all. I didn’t feel like I could be rude and push him away! I’m so sorry if that displeased you, master. I did not know your expectations, sir.” My voice is filled with tears—and more tears of regret for telling of my secret meeting with Rai, who may have broken a rule to touch me out of turn. 

“I see,” Shiki says. “Perhaps he was simply misinformed, but I will have words with him after I’m finished with you. For now, I will teach you a simple lesson about who is your boss. Come.” 

I am dragged by my collar to a chair, where he rather violently pulls me over his lap, face down. I find myself staring at the plush carpet of a guest room I’ve never been—in my own castle—and my cuffed wrists are in front of me. I realize now exactly what kind of lesson he has in mind, as soon as I feel one hand stroking my behind, and one pressing down on my lower back, making me arch slightly. My tail restlessly waves back and forth.

“Master, please—I didn’t know the rules,” I beg. “There is no need for this.” 

“But there is,” he murmurs, continuing to stroke me. He slips his hand gently between my cheeks, almost tenderly, and I hear a small gasp. “What’s this? There is no redness here—you aren’t even swollen?”

He grabs my chin suddenly with the hand that was pressing on my back, keeping his other hand awfully close to my entrance. It’s a terribly intimate touch. I shiver with disgust and close my eyes when he cranes my neck back to make me face him, my cheeks red and hot, my ears burning.

“Look at me!” He barks. 

My eyes fly open at his command, and I quiver. Several tears sneak out of my eyes, and I fail to suppress a sob.

“Didn’t the Setsuran take you last night?”

“We did... other things,” I say quietly. “He did not use me there.” Another sob I am trying to hold back slips out, and I can’t help letting loose a tiny whimper.

“You are untouched!” He sounds gleeful. “Like an unopened blossom—waiting for me! You saved yourself for me, my sweet little Sanga!”

He releases my chin, and I whimper softly. Perhaps in his happiness, he won’t punish me now? 

“Hmm,” he murmurs softly, rubbing my rear lightly, slipping in between my cheeks softly. “Perhaps I will reward your thoughtfulness with a lighter punishment. But you still need to learn what happens when you disobey and disrespect me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master,” I whimper softly. ”Please, be gentle with me, master.”

“Sweet little tears already—as I would expect from a spoiled kitten as yourself,” Shiki says. “But soon, you will actually have a _reason_ to weep, my dear. Keep in mind, I will be going easy on you, because you saved yourself for me.”

“Thank you, master,” I choke out, wondering how the hell I got myself in a humiliating situation like this.

“Now, there are rules. You may want to reach up and protect yourself. That is _not_ allowed. I suggest you hold on to the chair. If I see your hands back here, that will warrant a more severe punishment, do you understand?” 

“Yes, master,” my voice is filled with fear. How bad is this going to be? I mean—it can’t be as bad the belt spanking, can it? 

One hand presses down on my lower back, keeping me firmly in place, and the other hand begins a volley of spanks—one right after the other—coming fast and hard—much faster than I can recover from. I immediately grab onto the legs of the chair, because he is right—I _do_ want to protect my ass from those blows! He alternates between each cheek, the center, and my sit spot—which hurts the most—drawing the loudest cries from my mouth—and he keeps going and going. My ass feels like it is on fire! I can’t believe he is doing this with his hand! 

After several spanks directly to my sit spot, I can’t take anymore, and I cannot control my hands.

“Please, master— _Please_!” I beg, and my hands fly up to protect myself. Of course, he catches them with the one holding my back.

“Ah, you’ve broken the rule, my spoiled little kitten,” he murmurs. For a moment, he rubs my ass—and it feels _so_ good—so soothing, my tears stop for a moment and a sigh comes from my mouth. “I’m afraid you’ve earned a penalty.” I think I hear something like laughter in his voice, almost like he was waiting for this. 

The next blow to come down is much different. It’s not a hand—and it’s much louder and harder—almost like a paddle, but not as big. What _is_ that? It hurts even more than his hand, leaving my ass bouncing and jiggling and searing in pain. I think it will leave bruises where his hand simply left me red. The blows make my legs quiver and shake, and my feet try to gain purchase on the ground to protect myself, but of course, my efforts are futile.

My cries turn to screams—and I would desperately try to protect myself with my hands, but he has them pinned behind my back, right at the base of my tail, which arches my bottom out even more, giving him the perfect aim for my thighs and sit spot. My thighs were previously spared, but he uses his implement on them—several strokes up my left thigh and then several up my right, alternating my sit spot in between.

“You know, you have the _perfect_ ass for spanking, little Sanga,” he murmurs—and I’m horrified to find that he is erect and pressing against my belly and side. “It bounces and jiggles in all the right places—it’s just amazing!”

I’m screaming and my face is covered with tears—even between strokes, I’m earnestly crying. But as soon as I can, I try to submit. Soon, I am not struggling anymore. I don’t know when I stopped, but it’s as if I have given up—I know he is going to do what he wishes, and he _wants_ me to submit. So I let my body relax—as much as I can. And it seems to please him.

“There we go—this is much better. A much better look—I require an _obedient_ Sanga. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, m-master,” I cry, between my tears.

Finally, he stops. He puts the implement down on the floor—I can see it now—it was a _hairbrush_ —holy shit—who knew a hairbrush could cause such pain? I am still weeping. My ass hurts so much—it’s on fire. His hands run all over my bottom and thighs—as though he is admiring his work, rather than soothing me.

“Move to the bed. Lie face down.” His words are short and clipped, and I obey immediately. I’m very afraid—is he going to fuck me now? After this? This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! My entire body is quivering, scared out of my wits.

He comes over in a moment, and I hear him open a jar. He applies a cream to my ass and my thighs—it burns at first but then cools and soothes my skin directly after. He doesn’t rub it in, however, just lets it absorb on its own. 

“I wish I could say I _didn’t_ enjoy punishing you, spoiled little Sanga. But that would be a lie. However, I hope you learned a valuable lesson from that discipline session. What did you learn?” 

“To respect and value my master’s time, and to obey his every command, master,” I reply. “I am very sorry I disappointed you. I want to please you, master.” My words are actually close to true, since I do not want to go through the humiliation and pain of another punishment ever again.

“Very good. Next time we come into this room, you will present yourself to me unadorned, right?”

“Yes, master,” I say, nervously. 

“Wonderful. Now, let’s get you dressed again.”

He helps me dress, careful not to get the salve on my clothing—almost like he has practice doing this, weirdly, I think. Perhaps the Tougas in Meigi are trained to spank their Sangas like this, but I dislike this type of relationship. However—for one day—I can do this. I have to do this. I just have to avoid Rai for both our sakes. It pains me.

I also worry about the collar and cuffs. They show through my clothes, so everyone in the palace can see them. It’s humiliating. I consider asking Shiki to remove them, but he fluffs out my hair and plaits it off to the side, so it accents the dark leather collar against my golden hair, the pale skin of my neck, and the ivory blouse. My guess is he wants it showing. Instead, I rephrase the question.

“Master, does my appearance please you?” 

“Kitten, the only thing that would please me more is if I could show off that glowing, nearly blistered behind of yours when we get out to the arena.”

I blush at his words and cast my gaze down. I’m mortified. How can I face the other Tougas like this—and then suddenly, my body is jerked forward. I had forgotten—there is a _leash_ attached to the collar at my neck. 

“You will follow me, like the obedient Sanga you are. Do you understand?” Shiki asks, his voice low.

“Yes, master.” Fresh tears appear in my eyes. 

“Perfect. You are perfect.” He is watching me walk—limping slightly, because of the pain in my buttocks and legs, my cheeks and ears are still pink. “Do your best for me in the arena. I saw the power you have yesterday, and I cannot wait to experience it myself. I use magic when I fight—and I’m sure you will be thrilled with my abilities.”

“Yes, master,” I say, almost mechanically, keeping my ears flat. I’m miserable. We haven’t even begun the arena fighting yet—but what if I can’t sing for Shiki? He was so cruel to me! I have _no_ desire to protect him—in fact, I’d _love_ to see him devoured by monsters, even if it meant I might be hurt as well. I’m angry, humiliated, disgusted, and more than anything, afraid. I didn’t know fear before today.

What if I can’t sing?

I’m shivering with fear as Shiki pulls me out of his chambers back toward the arena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Konoe meets Shiki in the changing area, and Shiki is angry because he missed breakfast. Shiki drags Konoe off to “teach him a lesson about respect,” back to his chambers.
> 
> He orders our poor little guy to strip. Konoe refuses at first, but Shiki threatens him, reminding him he is there to submit and obey, so he does. Shiki slaps on a leather collar and cuffs (ankles and wrists). And then tells him the next time he appears in his room, he is to come like this, “unadorned.” (Thanks, Empessing, for this idea.) 
> 
> Shiki then explains that Konoe needs to call him “master,” and only speak when spoken to. He proceeds to say that he will punish him for ignoring him earlier, but is delighted to find that he isn’t red and swollen from last night (realizing Rai didn’t fuck him—thinking, yay, Konoe saved himself for Shiki) so he says he will go lightly. He proceeds to spank the shit out of poor Konoe who has no idea about these things—his second ever spanking, really, using a hand and then a hairbrush.
> 
> However, he does treat him with a cream (which Konoe finds confusing) and then helps him get dressed. The chapter ends with Shiki leading Konoe out to the arena, and telling him how excited he is about hearing his song. Konoe is humiliated having to wear a collar—afraid he won’t be able to sing for a person he hates.


	8. The real second battle, and the sour grapes of the Meigi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just kidding!
> 
> Let me edit the chapter before I post it!
> 
> So our precious little Sanga goes out to sing, and it doesn’t go well. Shiki is unimpressed and actually works against his Sanga, yanking his collar so he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and poor little Konoe loses consciousness.
> 
> He wakes in a dark room, thankful to be in the presence of his parents, who regret to inform him of his evening ahead of him. He hasn’t been saved from Shiki after all. He must please his suitor at all costs—in the bedroom—for the sake of his country.

As soon as the first magical monster appears, I realize there is a problem. The collar around my neck is choking me, and I am suffocating. For the first time in my life, I’m in a situation where I need to be able to produce a song—and I feel it humming, just beneath the surface of my skin, ready to be released—and I can’t _sing_. And I am deathly afraid. 

Shiki yanks my chain roughly, as though to remind me of my purpose—and gods damn it, I’m sure I’ve been training as a Sanga for longer than he has been training as a Touga—ever since the day of my _birth_ , I have been singing and sung to, and he at least had to be able to _hold_ a sword. I _know_ why I am in this arena, and it’s _his_ fault I can’t sing! It’s this fucking _collar_ and his fear mongering and his threats and his “master this” and “master that” and “don’t speak until you’re spoken to”—and I feel like I am about to _explode_ —in frustration and anger!

I’m feeling humiliation that I have never felt because it looks like I am _failing_ as a Sanga—I am currently unable to produce my song—because of what _he_ just did to me in his chambers and strangely, I realize, a lack of oxygen. I have both my hands clutching at the collar around my neck—making it even more obvious to the onlookers of the arena, watching this spectacle—what exactly is the hold up with my song, I’m _sure_ they can see! I feel my cheeks burning— _both_ sets of them, still, to be honest—and I am _furious_!

I happen to glance up at the crowd, and my eyes pass over my parents, and Dad looks really anxious—like, horrified—while Papa’s face looks stony—and his eyes are on the monster he has currently conjured, worried this level one creature is actually going to defeat us—which hasn’t happened since I was less than five years old—even before I started my official training. I’m relieved to see he isn’t totally pissed and headed straight down here with a belt in his hand. He seems to know something is terribly wrong.

But I am suddenly pulled to my knees, my chain yanked so harshly that I _completely_ lose my ability to breathe. I look up desperately at today’s suitor—with total desperation in my eyes—doesn’t he realize I need to be able to breathe in order to sing? I need air to get out my song, let alone live? What the _fuck_?

And when I look up—he has dragged me awfully close—and I can only guess it’s for two reasons. First—this dragon breathes fire, and I am aware of this, of course—but he probably is trying to make it look like he is protecting me from the dragon. Now—Rai did this yesterday, too—but instead of manhandling me with a leash, choking me, and dragging my forcefully across the floor, Rai actually gracefully took a few steps in front of me and slashed the dragon to pieces. And if he needed me to move, he would tell me—through our bond—or grab me by my waist and move me gently if I couldn’t move fast enough. So I do _not_ approve of this method of protection.

Second, however, I see today’s suitor is _extremely_ displeased with my lack of song, which—I say again is _entirely_ his fault. He is scowling down at me with a fierce expression, those red eyes boring into me.

“What are you waiting for, a hand-stamped invitation? What the _fuck_ is the delay? Fucking sing, you spoiled little _shit_!” He actually hisses those words at me while he is choking me with the collar. 

“B-breathe?” I manage to get one word out of my mouth, just before I pass out—I _literally_ lose consciousness on the battlefield because my own Touga has restricted my airway in front of the entire arena.

I wake up in a room with the shades drawn, my neck and throat bruised, sore, and burning, and I am thirsty and angry as hell—and I shoot up in bed, as if waking from a nightmare—remembering I was just in a dangerous situation—remembering I lost consciousness on a battlefield.

“Konoe.” 

Thank the gods! It’s my dad. A rush of relief flows through my body at the sound of his voice, and my eyes flood with tears at the familiar timbre—and he sounds concerned for my well-being. He’s here in the room and approaching me, but I can’t see him. 

“You’ve been out for quite some time. How are you feeling?” 

“Thirsty?” My voice is crackly and hoarse and doesn’t sound at all like myself. Is this _permanent_ damage? Worry rushes through me. I can’t sing without my voice. It’s true—my Sanga song resonates from within my body, but when I have a cold or a sore throat, my song will not come. I cannot believe today’s Touga was so careless with me! I shiver to think of it. A few tears slip down my cheeks at the thought of having to face him again. “My throat really hurts,” I whine miserably.

“It seems you have been injured,” Papa says, his voice unreadable, but very close—he is sitting at the edge of my bed. He leans down to stroke my ears and helps me sit up, putting a pillow behind my back gently. “Drink this.”

He presses a steaming mug into my hands, and I take a sip. It’s one of Papa’s bitter potions—magical, I’m sure, but he has masked the taste with honey and something strangely minty like he often does for me. I notice my hands are trembling slightly, and I realize it’s because of an odd scent in the room that I can’t place. The more I think about it, the more my hands tremble, and the less I want to look around, but I slowly lift my gaze anyway. 

There, at the foot of my bed, sits today’s suitor, gazing down at me, his handsome pale face, black hair and fur, and red eyes sparkling sharply in the low light. My stomach turns when I see him sitting there so casually—don’t my parents realize _he’s_ the reason for my injury? He nearly _choked_ me to death out there!

“What is _he_ doing here?” I hiss sharply, my fur bristling, my fangs baring, my claws wrapping around the mug.

“Konoe,” Dad appears at my side, as though by magic, “Shiki told us about your discussion before today’s performance, so it makes sense that you might have been nervous. Perhaps the two of you should spend some time getting to know each other instead of pairing right away.”

“No!” I shout, my voice barely audible, but I gather all my nerve and all my strength. “It’s _his_ fault I wasn’t able to produce my song, Dad!” It hurts my throat to talk, but I persist. To my annoyance, Dad puts his hand on my arm to calm me down. I scoot my body all the way back toward the head of the bed. “Papa, _listen_ to me—it was this collar—you must have seen it—he yanked it so hard I couldn’t even get air in my lungs to take a _breath_ , much less sing my song! Though my song was thrumming through my body!” 

“Calm down, Konoe,” Papa pats my leg gently. “Finish your medicine. It will heal your throat. This conniption is only making things worse.”

Tears of frustration are gathering in the corners of my eyes again since he is giving me a look of gentle consternation like he thinks I may be losing my mind. “You both _know_ I have been able to defeat that magical monster even unpaired since before I even started my official training at five years old! Please—you _have_ to believe me!” My voice is hoarse and dry—every word excruciating.

“Sweetheart,” Dad says—oh, gods—not _that_ pet name again! “You must do as your father asks, and calm yourself. I know you were nervous. Shiki asked you to behave for him in a certain... fashion, and both of us know that modifying your behavior on the behalf of someone else is not your strong suit.”

What are they _talking_ about? My behavior? I rub my ears and stare at the stranger at the foot of the bed. He has his arms crossed in front of him. What lies has he told my parents? What the hell does he _want_ from me? A shiver rushes through my body at the cold glance from his eyes, freezing my anger to fear. 

Dad gently rubs my hair, which is loose down my back, and my silk blouse brushes against my skin.

“Listen, sweetheart, we love you very much, but this ceremony is about the Sanga and Touga becoming one. To do that, you must submit to your Touga, even if you don’t like his request.” 

“I _did_ submit! I tried to sing—he didn’t even give me a _chance_! He yanked my chain and choked me before I even had a chance to breathe! He _suffocated_ me, Dad! Papa—he choked me out there—and you think I didn’t _submit_? What is _wrong_ with you?”

My ears are flattened against my skull, and I am hissing my words in a heated whisper because I haven’t been able to finish my father’s magical potion and my voice hasn’t returned. 

“Shiki, will you excuse us? Give us a moment with our son?” Dad says politely, ushering the Touga from the room by his arm, but coming right back to my side.

“Konoe, I’d like you to drink that potion.” Papa looks at me firmly. “It loses its potency as it cools.” 

“Honey,” Dad returns, sitting on the other side of my bed, rubbing my foot. My legs are curled up tightly against me, my body shaking, while I obediently choke down the potion as Papa ordered. I will get nowhere if I don’t give in to some of their demands. “We saw what happened on the field. I saw the fear in your eyes. I could do nothing to stop it.” 

I look up from my mug in surprise.

“Drink it, Konoe,” Papa commands. “Now.”

I know what is coming.

“Just like we can do nothing about what is coming next. I’m not sure you know, but when a Sanga fails to sing for a guest suitor, he is still left to the suitor for the evening, and their pairing may still stand, depending on what happens that evening. In Sisa’s history, some of our princes _have_ chosen Tougas they could not immediately connect with on the battlefield.”

“You will _still_ have to do what he wants in the bedroom, I’m afraid. Konoe, just drink it,” Papa urges. There is a short pause while I finish the potion. “It may not actually help your throat—but it _will_ make the evening go much better for you. I promise. I’ve loaded it with catnip and a sedative. It will make you much less anxious and more... biddable.”

My ears snap up sharply—the drink in the mug is nearly finished. My own _father_ drugged me?

“Papa?” I whisper—I’m absolutely horrified. I feel so betrayed! My tears sting like acid. 

“You will thank me in the morning. For him and his kind, you will want to submit as much as possible. Your resistance will do nothing but pain and damage—not only to your body but also to our countries. We cannot risk open war with the Meigi right now. Even if you were to choose the Setsuran today—he would not have sufficient time to rally troops to our aid—they are too far away. Do you understand?” Papa has grabbed my chin and is looking in my eyes—those eyes are so much like my own it’s almost spooky. Only his are filled with desperation—and sorrow.

I _won’t_ let him have his sorrow. He just _drugged_ me!

“You _betrayed_ me! You are sacrificing your own _son_ —your son’s _body_ —for the sake of some possible  _peace_? You should be _ashamed_!” I spit the words, my voice still not returned. I’m shocked to hear Dad’s voice in reply.

“Such is the fate of _all_ the princes of Sisa, my dear,” Dad says, almost sadly. “We are _born_ for the sake of keeping the peace between nations and _not_ for _any_ other purpose. I tried to let you live a happy and carefree life until you came of the age and this reality was forced on you, and now, I think this was probably a mistake. I see my indulgence has done nothing for you except make this ceremony even more difficult for you. But I promise you will get through this. We love you dearly, and I believe that Setsuran holds you dear in his heart. I saw he waited outside your room this morning—even though today it wasn’t his turn.”

I inhale sharply—it feels like glass shards in my throat—and I worry Rai will get in trouble for his secret visit.

“Indeed, he cares for you very much. His secret is safe with us—and I’m sure he knows to take care not to be seen. As for tonight—you know you must please this suitor at all costs. Please, Konoe, be biddable and obedient. Do as you are told.”

“He will _beat_ me!” I cry hoarsely, tears flowing freely now. “He will _punish_ me! He wants nothing but to see me _cry_ and _grovel_ at his feet!”

Dad grabs my chin sharply and hisses, baring his fangs—I even feel his claws on my skin. My eyes widen.

“Then _cry_ , _weep_ , and _wail_ as loudly as you can, my child! And _grovel_ and _submit_ to his punishment—do _not_ resist—submit to him as soon as he gives you punishment and thank him! Do _not_ fight him in the least! Act as though he is your master and he will be pleased with you! Don’t be a _fool_! Then, he will fuck you and the night will be _over_. Don’t you _understand_? You must do _whatever_ is required—and if you submit, it will be easier for you!” 

“But—”

“But _nothing_!” Dad hisses, more sharply than he has ever been with me. “If you do not promise me here and now that you will submit to today’s suitor, as this ceremony requires, by the goddess Ribika herself, I will whip you raw until you promise me you will! I’ve raised a cleverer boy than this! Use your _head_!”

I flinch from those sharp words from my usually kind, sweet and indulgent father, my entire world flipped on its head. I realize that I will now be forced to spend the night suffering—and for _what_? _He_ has betrayed me, too! 

“Do _neither_ of you love me anymore?” I ask, tears and sobs interrupting my words. “Do _neither_ of you care for me anymore—that you would _leave_ me with a cat who would _suffocate_ me in front of an arena of onlookers?” 

“Konoe—he did that _deliberately_ , so you would fail and he could punish you however he liked this evening.”

“Then the other Tougas might do this, too? Why would I _ever_ choose them?” I wail in my whispering voice.

“They saw how open you were in your bond with Rai, and he probably was overcome with jealousy and didn’t even want to try. The way you two worked together yesterday was incredible—like a seasoned pair. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’d never choose Shiki, and he knows it, but he has you for the day and night, and he plans to make the most of you. And some cats just lean that way. Perhaps he thinks you might have a masochistic streak. If you do, he has a chance.”

“Either way, honey, you are doing this for your _country_. Not for yourself, not for us, but for the sake of your _country_ ,” Papa says, using an unusual term of endearment. He almost always uses my name. He touches my ankle softly, stretching it out in the bed. “ _Relax_ now.” 

“Don’t worry about anything else, except what is right in front of you,” Dad says, his voice softening, following Papa’s lead. “You can get through this.” He pulls my other ankle, taking the near-empty mug from my hands, and my body slides down in the bed, completely relaxed. It’s almost like I’m unable to move. I swallow thickly, a few more tears falling from my eyes. “You are a beautiful and enchanting creature, Konoe. Use that gift and your voice to enchant this cat.”

That’s easy for him to say! They are about to lock me inside a room with a monster!

“Wait! Wait!” I cry. “D-don’t leave me!”

“We must,” Papa says.

“N-no—you d-don’t understand. I-I am s-supposed to appear b-before him... u-unadorned.” I’m so ashamed to say it aloud, in front of my parents. “B-But I can’t move! W-will you help me? P-please? I d-don’t w-want him to p-punish me for b-being d-disobedient! P-please!” I am begging, crying, and weeping—and I cannot believe I’m actually asking my parents to disrobe me. 

Papa heaves a heavy sigh. “Shui, what are you doing?” 

“If we are leaving him to such a heavy fate, this is the least I can do!”

I feel Dad’s cool hands at my collar, quickly unbuttoning my shirt, sliding my arms out of my sleeves and pulling the silk from under my back. Then he quickly unbuttons my breeches and pulls them off my hips, struggling a little, gasping slightly.

“My gods, how like your father you are,” he mumbles slightly.

“Perhaps it would be better if I...” Papa says. 

“No, no,” Dad says. “This is a little nostalgic for me.” 

“Move, _now_ , Shui,” Papa snaps sharply, as soon as my breeches slide down my legs. 

Dad works off my stockings and Papa slips me out of my underwear, brushing slightly against my bottom, and I wince sharply. Papa looks at my face miserably as the tears slip down my face, but I shake my head. 

“From him,” I whisper. He doesn’t look consoled. 

Papa pulls a sheet up over my naked body for modesty.

“Um—I don’t think the sheet—” 

“We are leaving the sheet,” Papa informs me, pulling on Dad’s arm.

“Is he formed just like you were at that age? Didn’t I meet you at 18? I never thought—I’m just intrigued...”

“Shui! He’s your _son_!” Papa rebukes my father for something I don’t quite understand in my strangely drugged state—but I am certainly quite relaxed.

I receive a light kiss on both my ears, and I hear a soft whisper—I think a soft, low apology— “I’m so sorry—if I could take this burden from you I would.”

Then I hear the door creak open and closed, and it is deathly quiet. I close my eyes and rest them for just a moment. The bed seems to sway pleasantly, my body feels like it’s floating when my eyes are closed, and my body is nicely relaxed. I could have used this potion my first night, too, I think.

I have only a moment before it creaks open again.


	9. Meigi v. Sisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. Several words of warning: This chapter took forever to write and probably should have been broken up into several parts, but what the hell, here it is.
> 
> I know some of my regular readers are NOT going to like most of this chapter. You may want to either skim it OR read through the chapter notes I've included at the end. I'll include a non-graphic summary of events, so you can skip this chapter.
> 
> This describes the evening our little prince Konoe spends with Shiki--all written from his point of view. I'd like to just point out here that I feel just a little sadistic for writing this, but please don't hate me for doing this. I don't hate Konoe. I just like writing about this stuff, especially after that sweet consensual non-con. I don't even want to apologize, really. Just skip it if it's not your kink. The rest of this fic will probably (hopefully?) get sweeter from here.
> 
> Trigger warnings: non-con spanking(s), severe and violent punishment, intimidation, forced orgasm, forced oral sex, and other trauma. This is a very unpleasant chapter.

Unable to move from my position, lying down in the bed—and covered with the sheet—I can’t see who it is when the door opens. My body feels strangely relaxed, however, though my pulse is racing in my ears and my mind is filling with anxiety. But the potion Papa had me drink has really settled my nerves, and I no longer fear I may vomit. 

I hear heeled boots approaching the side of my bed and coming to rest.

“What did I _tell_ you about appearing before me _unadorned_ the next time you came to me?” Shiki’s voice sinks into my ears like slime—so very unlike the honeyed sensation I felt when Rai spoke to me. Fear shivers through my body and across the surface of my skin. I widen my eyes, hoping they will quickly adjust to the low light in the room. Is it evening already? I see several candles burning in the sconces, and it appears the curtains are drawn.

“I-I was g-given a potion,” I stammer, my voice still hoarse and painful.

“Yes, I saw your father brought one for your throat,” Shiki says, stroking my bruised neck tenderly. “I didn’t want to _have_ to injure you, little Sanga, but after watching you sing for the silver cat, I realized this was the route I would have to take.”

“I w-would h-have s-sung f-for you, m-master,” I whisper. “The m-melody was j-just b-beneath m-my s-skin—” and my sentence is abruptly cut off along with my breath. Shiki has grabbed my collar again—and it hurts, even more, this time. I cast my gaze at him, pleadingly, realizing my mistake too late. I should have _known_ not to speak. _Don't speak unless spoken to._  He releases my collar shortly, probably unwilling to do me too much more harm—and also pleased I have not resisted him.

Papa was right—about the potion and not resisting. How did he know?

“What did I tell you? First, you disobey my order about coming to me unadorned. Second, you speak when you have not been asked a direct question. Are you itching so much for punishment, my spoiled little Sanga?” His voice is excited and heated, not angry, however, adding to my sense of dread.

“No, master,” I drop my eyes miserably, barely able to get out the words. Each sound feels like a shard of glass in my throat. 

With a single swift movement, Shiki pulls the light sheet from my body, leaving me frightfully exposed—naked except for the collar and cuffs on my wrists and ankles. Although—seeing me this way makes his eyes darken suddenly, and his facial expression actually changes for a split second. 

“What’s this? Have you been given some drug? Something to make you more biddable—to make the evening less painful for you? Even now, your parents spoil you! And here you are—in your full beauty, as I requested. But why didn’t you appear like this when I first came in? Why did you cover yourself?” 

“Master, I required assistance from my parents to undress. They didn’t want to leave me so exposed, sir.” My face is blushing, as he examines my body from my ears to my toes and every bit in between—never have I felt so laid bare—lying on my back before him, a piece of meat on display. I close my eyes when I feel his claws against the side of my neck.

“ _Look_ at me, little prince. Open your eyes and meet my gaze,” the words are growled low in my ear.

“Please, master,” I beg, but I obey, tentatively opening my eyes, trying to meet that intense red glare. His eyes are surprisingly dark, pupils blown wide. 

“I’m surprised you’ve even made an attempt to submit to my request,” he purrs. “You seem so full of yourself and strong-willed.”

“Yes, master,” I say, tears spilling from my eyes. His hands flatten against my body—against the bare skin of my chest, flicking my nipples with his claws and making them rise to an upright position. I try not to flinch, but it’s easy for me not to move, simply because I can’t. His hands travel along my abdomen down to my flat belly, where he combs his extended claws through the soft white fur just below my navel.

“White fur—so innocent and pure—as suits you,” he whispers. But his gentle touch turns to a sharp tug as he grabs that fur in his fingers and gives it a yank. I cry out, additionally tears spilling from my eyes, but I do not move, and I keep my eyes trained on his face. My body is trembling in fear. 

“I only wish to please you, master,” I beg softly, through my tears.

“I have no doubt you shall please me by the end of the night. I had no plans to fight my way to the top—bribe my way to the top—and leave in any way dissatisfied—regardless of the outcome. I’ve always desired a top-tier _virginal_ Sanga, little one. In Meigi, while we value our Sangas, we do not think purity is as important as submission. I personally disagree. Submission is a trait easily taught in the inexperienced and young, such as yourself. I’ve sampled many others before you, and I’m excited to try a virginal prince—and I expect you to sing for me before the night is over. I _know_ you are able—for I also felt your song.”

I can’t help it—a painful shocked gasp is expelled from my damaged throat. He _knew_ I was going to sing and sabotaged my efforts? For what reason? To get me here? Couldn’t he do with me as he liked anyway? Perhaps not as roughly as he wanted, I suppose, unless he _wanted_ me drugged.

“Master, I will do my best to please you,” I say, lowering my gaze.

“So you say, while disobeying my command to maintain eye contact,” Shiki mutters, irritated. “You cannot even obey me in that! I’ll need again to show you who is your true master.” 

“Please—” I start to beg and plead—desperately casting my gaze back up to his—and too soon—before shutting my mouth abruptly, remembering my father’s words. And Shiki gives me a strange look. I sigh, lower my ears, and say, “I apologize, master. Of course, you are correct. I will submit to whatever punishment you deem sufficient.” 

He tilts his head, unable to believe what he has just heard from my mouth. I too am unable to believe the words that just came out of my mouth.

“Was is it an obedience potion he gave you? Does Sisa _have_ such magic? No—for if they did, you would not be the bratty little Sanga I have seen since I have been here. Hmm. Even _we_ do not have such magic. You will present yourself to me—assume the position—prepare yourself for your punishment.” 

A wave of fear rushes through my body but I struggle to obey at once—and struggle I do—but I can barely move my heavy body. Shiki is watching me with his hand on his chin. I can barely turn myself to my side, much less roll over.

“Please, master—I am trying to obey—I may require assistance after consuming my father’s potion,” I say quietly. 

“If I have to help you, additional punishment will be given,” Shiki warns—and I remember how he went from that painful hand spanking to the intolerable hairbrush. So I redouble my efforts, pushing my face into the mattress and swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

It’s truly the best I can do.

“Spread your arms to the side and open your legs.”

I spread out my arms on either side of my body, keeping my head turned to the right, and widen my stance. The only parts of my body that move freely are my ears and tail, which are twitching nervously.

I feel a soft touch on my bare bottom—and he is admiring the bruising he left earlier today with the hairbrush. 

“Your skin is so delicate, my spoiled little Sanga. I’m surprised my last lesson didn’t teach you better. I saw the rage in your eyes in the arena, and also when you saw me at the foot of the bed.”

At first, I feel like snapping back at him, but instead, I remember Dad’s words—and try to discover exactly what Shiki wants from me.

“I was foolish, master. I am spoiled, and I am thankful you are spending your precious time teaching me this valuable lesson.” The words, spoken between an audible hitching sob, taste like poison coming from my mouth, and his response is a strange one—his hand slips in between my cheeks almost tenderly—like it did earlier when he realized Rai had left me untouched. The touch is revolting. I swallow the spit gathering in my mouth.

“ _That_ is what I want to hear, little one,” Shiki purrs. “If you take your punishment well, I will reward you afterward, and you can see the benefits of submitting to a powerful, magical Touga from Meigi, my lovely kitten.” His words make my skin shiver with fear, but it’s possible he interprets my response as desire.

He walks away from the bed for a moment and returns.

“I will first be punishing you for embarrassing me in front of the arena—by refusing to sing your song and submit yourself to my command.” 

“Yes, master,” I sob. “I’m deserving of your punishment.” I taste bile rising in my mouth. 

“Then, I will punish you for the rage and lack of subordination I saw in your eyes on the field and in front of your parents, right here in my own chamber.”

“Yes, sir.” I try to control my weeping. He hasn’t even started beating me yet, and tears are flowing. 

“You are also deserving of punishment because you spoke without being spoken to and you did not appear before me unadorned, as I requested. I appreciate your effort, but you must follow the letter of the law. To me, this direct disobedience of my command is the most severe, and I’ll save it for last.” 

My tail droops listlessly on the bed. “I’m sorry I failed you, master. I deserve no mercy.” 

“I will use three techniques on you, and I will offer you a small break in between. Have a glass of water. You are not to repress your cries. I enjoy the sound of your voice. You are a Sanga and were raised for your voice.”

“Yes, master. You are merciful, master.” My words are coming naturally, now—as though from someone else. The potion Papa gave me has really helped—but I even feel like I’m someone else. The bedspread suddenly looks awfully strange: I can see the individual silk threads close up, how they are woven together. I wonder for a moment what it is that is holding them together, what it would take to cause them to unravel, and if it’s the same thing it would take to unravel a person’s mind.

He helps me drink a glass of water, which I gratefully accept, then he presses my body back into the mattress. He strokes my shoulders almost kindly, spreading my hair over my back—I’m sure it looks pretty in the candlelight. I hate candlelight. I hate fire. I close my eyes against it.

“Keep your arms outstretched, legs slightly apart, unless I instruct you to move,” he reminds me, urging my arms to go where they are told. I shakily drag them heavily across the silk bedspread once more, planting my feet on the floor, curling my toes into the plush carpet. We are in _his_ guest room, I realize when I touch the carpet. He hasn’t prepared his room for me in any way I can see, unlike the lavish decorations Rai's room had—with guiding leaves and flowers—and it makes my heart ache. Another tear spills from my eye as I await my punishment, and my tail lashes nervously.

“If I have to restrain you, I will add to your punishment, like I did last time,” he whispers directly into my ear—almost a sexy promise—as if I should be looking forward to it—and oddly, my heart makes a little leap when he whispers so intimately in my ear, and something below my waist shifts. It leaves me feeling utterly disgusted and confused, however, because I’m frightened of both this cat _and_ his threat of punishment—so when my body responds it truly confounds me.

However, instead of my ears flattening in fear, as they have been, they perk up slightly, and my tail lifts oddly at the base, showing slight sexual interest, to my utter shame and horror. Could it be the potion Papa gave me? I suppose it’s not working against me, in this case, because Shiki seems mightily pleased with my response.

As fast as I can, I muster the best words I can for the situation.

“I will do my best to please you, master,” I mumble, but it comes out in such a strange, sexy voice it shocks me. Shiki’s hands glide down my back, pressing against my lower back, skating out across my hips and ass. I notice he has a few items resting on the bed beside me—implements? For my torture? They are on my left, and I don’t turn my head. I’d rather not even know. Just let it be a surprise. Let this be over! Please.

He picks something up—it’s light, nearly weightless—and starts to talk to me in that soft voice of his again. I keep my eyes closed softly, wishing I could be somewhere else, trying to concentrate on the floaty feeling in my body and not the panic rising inside me. 

“I’ll start by giving you 10 strokes with this whip for your failure to please me in the arena. If you move to defend yourself or move from this position, I will add to your punishment at the end. I know you are new to physical discipline, however, so I will not hold it against you once the final tally is complete. Are you sufficiently prepared?”

To my surprise, a loud sob escapes my throat before I can reply, and my body begins to shake—my knees tremble, and I try to lock them in place.

“Yes, master,” I whisper, and I’m surprised to find him hovering over my back again, his mouth at my ear.

“Just relax your body, darling. Don’t tense up. Simply relax for me.” As if we are making _love_?! 

Another fearful sob escapes and I say, “Yes, master,” just before I hear a light but dangerous swishing sound very unlike my father’s belt. 

A burst of pain hits right at my sit spot—bright, specifically aimed, and mean—lighting up the nerves in the back of my thighs and my ass. The noise it makes upon contact is quiet compared to the sound of a hairbrush or strap. And it belies the amount of pain it brings with it. Immediately, my legs snap together, trying to protect myself from the pain spreading further, and a cry falls from my lips. 

I hear Shiki murmuring softly as he pokes the tip of the whip directly between my legs, almost below the base of my tail, which I fluff up and lower defensively. I don’t like that whip touching me there! 

“Hmm—only the first blow, and you were unable to hold your position, spoiled little kitten! Didn’t you say you would do your best for me?”

“I’m sorry!” I cry, spreading my legs again.

“You’re sorry... _what_?” he asks menacingly.

At first, I don’t understand what he means—and then I remember. 

“Uh—I’m sorry, _master_!” Even more tears fall from my eyes. I wonder if he will add one or two strokes for my blunder. I press my claws into the mattress and dig my toes into the carpet, awaiting the next blow.

The swish comes again, and I manage to take it without closing my legs, but I cry out just as loud. This one hits slightly higher and is aimed at the center of my right cheek. It’s much less painful than the low blow on my sit spot.

The third blow is aimed low at my sit spot once again, and once more I’m unable to maintain my position. My legs snap closed and a cry leaks between my clenched teeth. A searing pain sneaks around to the front of my hips—dangerously—almost as though it’s intended to hurt me where I’m supposed to feel pleasure. I immediately resume my position, my ears and tail drooping defeatedly, knowing I’ve failed.

The fourth blow is centered more on my left cheek, which I manage with a loud gasping sob, maintaining my position.

My entire body shivers in agony, but I try my best to keep my legs relaxed for the next onslaught, which I guess will be another low blow to my sit spot. 

It isn’t. This one is aimed at my thighs—and while it hits both, is centered slightly on the _inside_ of my right thigh. It shoots pain up on the inside of my leg, both up toward my groin and down toward my knee and into my ankle. The sound that comes out of my mouth is more like a grunt—like having the wind knocked out of me than a cry, but I keep my legs in place and relaxed. I dig my claws into the bedspread to keep my hands from covering myself.

I cannot move my legs for the next blow, either, from the shock of the last one. The sixth swish comes down on the inside of my left thigh, which has the same effect—also shooting pain toward my left ankle and up the inside of my leg, and now both my legs hang lifelessly off the bed. Perhaps this will make it easier to comply?

Yet when the seventh blow drops as another direct hit to my sit spot, I scream, my legs clamp themselves together, as though they need to protect themselves again. Yet another failure, I know. I hear my abuser clicking his tongue.

“Ah, please! Master!” I scream through my tears. “Ah! Thank you for your lesson?” I add, instead of begging for mercy, as I resume the position. I don’t even think about the extra blows I will be earning anymore.

The eighth and ninth blows are on my left and right cheeks, which I handle with cries while maintaining my position, and the tenth—another deliberate sit spot blow, which I still cannot handle with my legs apart. My legs snap together right after, and I scream loudly, tears flowing freely, and I sob hard and loudly.

I feel a hand resting on my bare bottom for a moment, and Shiki whispers, “Go ahead and keep your legs together now, little Sanga.”

When I do, and I realize that this position isn’t any better. In fact, with my legs together, this lifts my ass up off the bed a little more, presenting myself even higher. It may protect that delicate skin in between my thighs, but my sit spot and butt is definitely protruding more now. I heave a great sob even _before_ whatever penalty he has in mind and dig my claws into the bedspread again. I try not to think about this only being the first of _three_ punishments he has for me. 

Then, the blows rain down, faster than I can count—but for sure, they are certainly more than four times the six I know I have earned. Alternating between my sit spot, my thighs, my sit spot, my cheeks, then starting anew—until I am wailing with tears and I feel like I may wet myself because I am in so much pain. My ass is searing with heat, my stomach cramping, my knees locked, but Shiki is holding the small of my back against the bed so I remain in that arched position and I cannot move even an inch.

As soon as the blows stop, my tears slow, and my breath starts to catch up—and as soon as I am able, I drop my body against the bed, and turn my head to the side. My legs are quivering, my skin feels strange, almost like bugs are crawling across it, yet I speak in as firm of a voice as I can muster. 

“Thank you for your valuable lesson, master. Thank you for your teaching. I will learn from it. I am grateful, master.” 

And I burst into tears. I know it’s probably what he wants—and I can’t help it—it _hurts_! My ass and thighs feel like they are on fire—and I feel like I might have some embarrassing accident if he does something this extreme to me again. And gods—how he would punish me _then_? I have no idea! I am crying loudly—and that is easy to do. I’m sure my _entire_  castle can hear me. And this is my home. We are in my home. I am being punished like this—treated like this—in _my own home_. I feel like I might vomit.

Disgustingly, his hands tenderly stroke my ears and my hair—and I’m sweating and gross. He lifts up my head and gives me a drink of water—it feels so good in my throat and it’s tasty. Then I hear something strange.

“You did very well, little Sanga. You pleased me very much. That was much better than your last discipline session. Only two more to go.” 

My ears droop so sadly, but I submit to his touch as he presses me back to the bed. I can’t help noticing there is a significant amount of blood pooling in my waist and hips—and while most is localized in my burning ass and thighs, some of it, strangely, pools between my legs and in my groin. When I am pressed back into the bed, I try not to notice I am half-hard.

“Yes, master. I am nothing but a spoiled little Sanga, but I will do my best for you.” 

I rest my body for a moment, relaxing into the bedspread, looking carefully at the threads that are holding the fabric together. They look slightly less tight than they were several moments earlier—or is that my imagination? The golden threads seem slightly further apart from the ivory threads, separated even further from the white threads... Are they breaking apart? My brain feels fuzzy. The cool water settles in my belly, having slightly soothed my throat. Those intrusive cool hands smooth down my hot skin—the flesh of my lower back is very warm, and I flinch when I am touched on my bare bottom. Surely, there are slim raised lines left behind from that whip.

Tears squeeze hotly from between my eyelids. One breath at a time, I will get through this. I try to take a deep cleansing breath as another hand fingers the collar at my neck for a moment—the skin beneath bruised and swollen. My deep breath comes out not as clean and relaxed but as a shivering, shaking sound, and a fearful sigh right along with it.

“Hush now,” Shiki whispers into my ear. “You received my praise, didn’t you? Doesn’t that please you?”

“Yes, master,” I try to nod my head, but I can’t with his fingers beneath my collar. “Nothing pleases me more.” And that’s the honest truth, at this point. 

“Your tears are lovely, however—and your cries are delicious,” he hums softly. “Let’s continue, shall we?” 

“Whatever you wish, master.” I lower my gaze, closing my eyes again, trying to relax. “How do you want me, sir?”

“Now that, my dear, is the perfect question,” his voice lowers even more. “As long as you don’t resist or squirm away, I will be satisfied. This is for...” and he pauses a moment. Gods—has he _forgotten_ what he is punishing me for? I have, at this point. A little rage burns inside me, which I quickly suppress. “Ah, yes. Your insubordination. The anger in your eyes.”

“Of course, master. I was very wrong.” I murmur softly into the bed, watching as those threads seem to come looser and looser. I keep my hands closer to my face, and I dig my claws into the bedspread and mattress next to my face, and then I close my eyes again, and I relax, my legs hanging off the side of the bed. Goosebumps shiver across my entire backside. 

I feel him pick something up next to me—and frighteningly, it has a _heavy_ weight to it—heavy enough so I notice when it’s missing. What the hell is _that_? A piece of wood? 

“Respect is important—not just to me, but to _any_ Touga, my spoiled little Sanga. So this lesson will be _unforgettable_ after you receive 10 strokes with this paddle. If I find you resisting this punishment in any way, I will add a penalty at the end—one that fits the crime. Do you understand?” I am caressed—the bare, newly welted, still-burning skin of my bottom. “Also, let’s raise you up just a bit.”

He puts two pillows underneath my hips, which raises my ass up off the bed, arching my lower back almost painfully.

“You look gorgeous, little Sanga—those little red stripes do you great honor,” he murmurs. “But I’d like to see you a little pinker.” 

I try not to groan, and instead, I whisper, “Thank you, master.” 

Again, I try to keep my body as relaxed as possible, my toes barely touching the floor now—when a whooshing sound zips through the air. The wind from the paddle moves the fur on my tail and my ears, as well as the hair from my back and shoulder—sending a shiver across my body—I instinctively know this is a dangerous sound even before the wood makes contact with my skin.

Then a loud but dull popping noise nearly bursts my eardrums, making my already alert ears flick backward. It’s foremost an _embarrassing_ sound, making my ears fill with blood in an instant. But after the sound registers—the pain registers in my body. And the pain from the paddle is much different than the pain from the whip.

This is a much larger, more intense pain—covering a large area of my body—both my butt cheeks—nearly the entire area of my butt—has been hit in this single hard blow—and at first, it’s a dull but heavy pain, if you can imagine. But then, the intensity of it hits—the sting catches up shortly after, easily as much as the sting of the whip, only over a much wider area—burning with dull, not a bright pain—just like the popping sound it made.

At first, a small puff of air accompanied by a helpless grunting sigh is ejected from my mouth—at the same time the blow connects with my skin. But as the pain grows sharper, and my skin starts to burn, another cry bubbles up in my lungs and is squeezed out, once the burning takes its full effect, in spite of myself. As soon as I can get it out, I nearly scream out as loudly as I did during the last penalty phase of my punishment, pulling my thighs together desperately, trying to keep the pain localized to my ass.

But I manage not to resist, I think—at least I hope I am submitting. My claws in the bedsheet, my face in the mattress, I am sobbing desperately. How many blows did he say? 

“That was a good kitten. You took that so well that I want you to _count_ , little Sanga. I know you can do it.”

 _What_? I hiccup loudly. Count?

“Y-Yes, m-master. U-um—one?” I ask tentatively, once I can breathe.

Then the next whooshing sound is upon my ears and my tail fluffs up again in fear. I am trying not to clinch up my ass, but I don’t manage. However, it makes no difference for this blow. This time, Shiki swings the paddle in an upward motion—wickedly catching the top of the backs of both thighs and my sit spot.

The bright clapping sound is very different than the muffled, dull sound on my ass, which naturally has more padding, and my ears twitch again. Another huff of air is expelled from my lungs like the wind has been kicked from me and a terrified, pained scream is released at the same time. I don’t even recognize the sound of my own voice! The pain is much different here, too—much brighter, much more intense—and it stings so much more! 

Tears stream down my face, and I struggle for a moment before I can catch my breath enough to say, “Two. Thank you, master.” 

He doesn’t even wait for me to finish my sentence before I hear the next rush of air. The embarrassing dull pop lets me know it was aimed for my ass before the pain registers, but my cry is much louder and is expelled with my breath this time. I don’t require a second for the pain to catch up anymore—the nerves are agitated and raw—and so is that skin. My ass feels large and swollen—and I feel it bouncing and jiggling after he pulls the paddle away.

“Three—master.”

Another breeze and a rush of terror rushes through my body when he hits my thighs and sit spot again. I scream loudly—the pain zips around to the front of my body, making my groin feels like it was almost hit directly this time. I almost feel like I might wet myself as I felt during the whipping. I feel saliva running down the corners my mouth, along with my tears and snot, and I wonder if I should say something—warn him—beg him for mercy. Instead, I squeeze my legs together tightly.

“Uh... f-four... m-master... th-tha—”

But I’m not even permitted to get my thanks out before the next blow hits me—and I don’t even register the rush of wind in my fur this time. It’s another blow right to my sit spot and barely touching my thighs. I scream again—almost hoarse now. The pain that is pooling in my waist, the heaviness, the weight—and a tremendous fear of soiling myself and the bed—is growing ever stronger.

“Five,” I whisper.

“Five _what_?” Shiki asks, lowering the paddle once again—this time to my buttocks.

I scream out loud again—the dull pain is easier to bear—but I loosen my grip on the bedsheets. I am so afraid I will wet myself. I fear I may lose bladder control if he spanks my sit spot again. And I lower my hands quickly underneath my body to grab hold of myself in case I lose control. I figure this way I will release anything unpleasant in my own hands and not onto the bed.

“Master—please—six—master—please—”

I squeeze my knees together tightly and lock my thighs together as well, preparing for the next blow, but it comes down as another hard blow directly to my ass, dull and aching. I scream again. The pain is still heavy, and I realize with my hands down around my groin that the risk of me wetting myself is slim. I am actually _completely_ hard. I’m filled with confusion. What is happening to me?!

“Ah—um, master? Um... seven? Master?”

“Sanga! Watch your hands! What are you _doing_? Are you...”

Shiki lands one more mean blow to my thighs and sit spot—the paddle sailing through the air, catching the tip of my tail in its wake—which in addition to the searing pain also sends an incredible electrical impulse jolting down my tail and up my spine. I scream in response to the spank and also in response to the blow to my tail—it hurts _so_ much—I had no idea my tail could be hurt this way. 

“Ahh—eight, master, _please_!” I am wailing loudly in between blows, too.

“Are you _touching_ yourself, little Sanga? Where the _hell_ are your hands?”

“N-no, m-master—I’m j-just afraid I m-might w-” and I’m so ashamed I cannot speak.

“ _Move_ your hands!”

“B-b-but m-master...” I beg—I have an incredibly uncomfortable, full feeling I cannot describe, and I’m afraid to let go of my dick. I am currently clamping the base of it painfully. It _hurts_. 

He spanks me again—right at my sit spot, and I scream—my thighs were not prepared, and he got the soft parts of them on the insides.

“N-nine,” I whisper.

“Nine, what?! Move those damned hands!” 

Whoosh—the paddle flies through the air once more, striking my buttocks firmly—clapping them equally and hard—a dull slapping sound—and I cry out loud, tears are literally squirting out of my eyes. 

“Ten—Ah—master, Ah—Thank you—Please—Thank you—Please—have mercy! Please, I can’t, there’s something wrong, please—I think I might—please—don’t make me—please!”

“You will be standing up for your penalty!” Shiki yells angrily. “You have _not_ pleased me! When I tell you to do something, you _do_ it! Now, take your penalty, or I will _make_ you comply!”

I am so frightened—but now that I’ve had just a moment to recover, I think I will be all right. I think I won’t pee on myself or him. He drags me up out of the bed by my leg, pulling me up over his knee. My heart starts to race in my ears—pounding loudly—and both my feet land solidly on the ground. 

“Please, master—I’m sorry—there is something wrong with my body—I think I have to go to the bathroom! Please—Please! Master!” I am begging, crying, pleading with everything I have, but he pulls me right up over his thigh. And he takes both of my arms and tightly pulls them behind my back. 

And he does several things in rapid succession. First, I hear a soft clicking sound—and I realize I cannot separate my wrists. I start to panic for real now—I cannot remove my hands from behind my back—my cuffs are connected in some way—and he pulls them up painfully to my lower back—and he pins them there.

“Now, you will have to comply. _No touching_. Weren’t you _trained_ not to touch yourself?”

“I’m s-so sorry, master—I-i j-just d-didn’t want to h-have an a-accident...” I blubber, tears, snot, spit flowing from every orifice. 

Then, as he bends me in half over his knee, which he props up on the bed, he brushes his hand boldly over my groin.

“Ah, I see. You are terribly naive about these things, aren’t you? There is no _chance_ you will wet yourself, little Sanga, when you are _this_ _hard_ ,” he murmurs the words in my ear while he strokes my dick—and it’s _painful_ —not pleasurable—and it sounds so dirty! I shiver in disgust. “However, there is a good chance you might accidentally _come_. And from a hard paddle spanking? I find that quite intriguing! But I gave you no such permission. If you do come...” he strokes my dick again, “You will be punished even more severely during your next round. I do _not_ give you permission. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, master,” I weep miserably. “I will do my best for you,” I sob, but I have no confidence.

I was right to have no confidence once this penalty round begins. I’m roughly bent over, my dick is stroked rather gently, and my ass is pushed up and out and my hands pinned behind my tail. He strokes the base of my tail as well, which I find wildly distracting, and strange lewd sighs start leaking from my mouth. I'm afraid I may come right now. 

“Uh—please—master—may I _please_...”

I have forgotten he has the paddle. But he has it, and by the goddess, he puts it to use in a way he hasn’t before. At a nearly sickening pace, loud clapping blows land alternating up and down my thighs, ass, and sit spot—and it’s only about four blows in until I am wailing as loud as my lungs will let me.

I’m begging—screaming—pleading—and the pain burns and spreads from legs and ass towards the front of my legs, and I try my best not to struggle, leaning forward into the pain rather than trying to straighten my back and struggle out away from it.

I go ahead and let my voice beg and plead as much as it will—I can’t control it. I also can’t control my tail—it’s waving around insanely—often narrowly avoiding blows or getting caught underneath the paddle and sending more electrical-type shocks into my spine and singeing pain all the way into my shoulders.

Nothing is touching my dick now, however—well, it's sometimes pressed against his knee or thigh when I am spanked hard enough, but the blows are coming so fast it hardly counts. So why... why am I so hard? Why do I still feel like this? Why...? Tears are dripping from my face when I compare this to last night and I push the memory away quickly—Rai's silver hair, his soft fur, his silky voice, his gentle touch... Why am I even thinking about it _now_? It's like my body is craving it!

I think I can get through the last of this pain without messing up any more—making it worse for myself, even despite the fact that my body is shaking—and heavy—pain and blood pooling at my waist and in my hips. However, then Shiki cruelly gently strokes the base of my tail and pops the tip in his mouth.

That’s the tiniest bit of stimulation I need to remember that incredibly strange full feeling I am having—feeling full to bursting—and I am weak in the knees now—and I swear I feel like I am going to wet myself. The damp feeling on the tip of my tail—is it reminding me of sex or pee? I cannot tell at this point—but I am _not_ feeling good in any case. This is simply a case of too much blood gathered in one area of my body. I am covered with shame and absolutely humiliated. My ears and face are completely red and hot—the only way this could be worse is if I were in public.

My body starts to shiver, and from my core, I start to come loose. My shame is overcome by my basest instinct. My cries start to change, too—they start to take on a little bit of that shivering sound and a slight purr, to my horror. Then—it’s too late to walk it back—and I can’t stop, and my purrs overtake my screams.

“No— _please_ —no—don’t— _please_ —not like this—I beg you—please, don't do this... ah—master, _please_!”

The cries tear from my lips and Shiki keeps that paddle moving on my backside, lowering his strokes and aiming them ever more on my sit spot, and I cry louder and louder—and finally, I give it up—and I realize, indeed, I am coming, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I spill my seed all over his thigh, squirting lewdly with every slap—and I finally relax into the punishment, realizing that despite his harsh words and threats, this is probably what he intended all along.

I am defeated, as he continues beating me until every last drop is drained from me, and I am still crying out—and I am now crying tears of shame, desperation, defeat, and forgiveness. 

He lets me drop to my knees, and I fall against his leg—right where I released—my face and hair falling right against my own come—it’s warm, sticky and salty—I’m shocked at the temperature and texture. I’ve never really felt the texture of my own come before—or Rai’s really, for any length of time—and certainly not in my face—it’s a bit of a surprise. It’s not quite as gross as I expected. I mean—I didn’t really think Rai’s was gross, but my own isn’t as bad as I thought it might be.

That’s not to say I really want it in my hair right now—I feel nasty, covered in my own fluids—semen, tears, snot, and spit—and my ass feels a little damp, and I’m sure hoping that’s sweat and not blood. I’m shivering, still weeping, and I’m on my knees in front of him, my hands still bound behind me.

Then I remember I’m supposed to be humble. I wasn’t _supposed_ to come, and I just did—because he stroked my tail. 

“You came—from me stroking your _tail_? You disobedient, spoiled little brat!” Shiki growls from above me.

I lower my face to stare at the floor, watching a mix of tears, come, and snot drip down into that lovely plush carpet I’ve never seen before today,and I start sobbing again.

“Master—I’m so sorry—I was _overcome_ by your touch—I just couldn’t help myself—I’ve no experience—and I simply thought I had to pee—master— _Please_ —forgive me—master, please!”

Fits with tears— _those_ I can do. And the drugs are still working. I can hardly stand—but _damn_ if my ass isn’t on fire! 

My body is now even more relaxed, but I do _not_ feel good. I did not get the same relaxation from that release or the nice pleasurable feeling I had with Rai yesterday. I am still afraid because he still has another punishment in store for me, and I did _not_ please him—again.

I bury my face in that black coat, tears falling.

“You are quite disgusting, covered in your own fluids,” he says as he grabs my hair. “Some prince you are. I’ve fucked cleaner _whores_ than you.” Thank the gods he releases my wrists.

“Yes, master. Forgive me, please.” I dare not raise my eyes, remaining on my knees. Plus I don’t have the power in my body to raise myself up on my legs.

“Get back on the bed.”

“Yes, master.” I’m scared, now—I’m not sure I can. But I do my best—pulling myself up by my claws—and I watch closely as my claws tear tiny holes in the threads of the bedspread—separating them, pulling apart the different colors, just like it feels like my mind is becoming—pleasure from pain, reality from dream, sanity from whatever this is—madness? One of the threads snaps underneath my sharp claw—just like that—it simply _snaps_ —it was _easy_. My heart skips a beat for a split second. Is this _all_ it takes to drive a person crazy? Is this all it takes to drive _me_ crazy?

I glance at Shiki for a second. Is that his goal? Does he want to drive me into utter madness?

“Are you considering disobedience? Haven’t you done _enough_ for today? I don’t think your body can take anymore. You’d best simply take what you have coming to you, spoiled little Sanga.”

He scares me—terrifies me. My heart beats in my throat. But I obey. I lie down on my stomach.

“No. This time, curl your legs up beneath your body.”

“Yes, master.” I can’t believe I still have tears to cry, but they continue to slip down my cheeks.

“This time, I will require more from you, little one, for this is the most heinous crime. Direct disobedience is the _worst_ offense. Would you like a glass of water? Or perhaps we should save it for afterward, so you don’t vomit?”

His words strike terror into my heart.

“Whatever you feel is best, master,” I whisper fearfully, hugging my legs in close in a small ball.

“Then let’s save it. You’re covered in plenty of fluids for now. Let’s not add vomit to that list. Now, you won’t like this punishment very much, I’m afraid, but it must be done.” 

“Master?” I ask, begging softly, my body shaking with fear.

“Now, now,” Shiki gently rubs my ass—and even the lightest touch stings and burns, and I clamp my legs together tightly, but I can do nothing. “You must raise up your behind, keep this fluffy tail out of the way, but keep your chest pressed down to the bed. I will give you ten strokes, plus an additional punishment for coming when you were not permitted, and for any unwillingness to maintain your position. Do you understand?”

I feel something very lightly touch the side of my leg. I’m afraid of what that thing might be—it feels like a twig or a branch, actually—and _that_ scares me.

“Master, please, I only desire to please you,” I plead.

“If that’s the case, then raise this beautifully pink ass of yours up off the bed for me, dirty little kitten, and accept the punishment you are long overdue.”

I feel like I might be sick. However, I comply, slowly.

I feel a slight tapping on my calves, however, when I do not obey quickly enough. Then suddenly, a sharp, stinging blow bursts across the unprotected soles of my feet, making my toes curl and my body flatten suddenly. I cry out—a single sharp cry. It hurts!

“That is exactly the wrong direction, spoiled little kitten, and counts as a strike against you.”

“I’m sorry, master,” I sob, desperately. The movement to flatten my body was a reflex—it really couldn’t be helped.

I try to raise my body to the position he requires, and as soon as I am there, the first two blows come down against my ass—sharp, stinging, blows that seem to tear open my skin. I don’t know exactly what he is using, but it feels like my skin is being flayed from my body, and I try to scream but my voice is now hoarse.

“Please! Master— _mercy_ —please!” I whisper. My body has once again immediately flattened itself. 

“Resume the position,” he says softly, urging me back up and swatting the soles of my feet cruelly. 

Keeping my eyes on the unraveling threads of the bedspread, I concentrate my energy on lifting my ass in the air as if it’s the last thing I will ever do, thinking, my gods, this is the _stupidest_ tradition of all time—what does this _really_ get us? I am going to _annihilate_ the Meigi as soon as I come to the throne—all because of this traumatic experience. I will ask for Shiki’s head on a platter or I will start a war that will end all wars! 

The birch flays my skin again—and I manage for four strokes this time—thank the gods I do not have to count—before my body is flat against the mattress again, and I am sobbing uncontrollably, begging for mercy.

“Please, master, please!”

“Your _position_ , you little brat! You can’t get everything you want in this life, and it’s my place to teach you this lesson!”

“Please, _please_ —isn’t it enough?”

“Isn’t it enough _what_?”

To my shock, the birch lands across the skin of my back—and it blazes like a fire, and so I instantly raise myself back up on my knees—it hurts so much more against my back, where there is _no_ padding, than where there _is_ padding, on my ass. So I obey in an instant. 

“Master, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, _please_ , master,” I beg, crying, weeping.

I manage the remaining four strokes then—and I collapse to the bed. Now—the penalty.

“Thank you for teaching me this lesson, master,” I whisper, hoping it might be enough. 

“Nice try, filthy little Sanga.” Cool fingers dance across my skin. “Turn over.”

I obey—gingerly—weeping when the even silk of the bedspread touches my broken skin. 

“I don’t wish to damage you, so cover yourself, and don’t move your hands. I’ve got usually a pretty good aim, but just in case.” 

My eyes open wide when I realize what he’s about to do, but I have no time to consider before he begins raining blows on the front of my thighs. I scream loudly—with every blow—burning, searing pain blossoming in ways I didn’t think possible.

He works quite quickly, though—scattering a striped pattern on the front of my thighs, and then rolling me to my front. I am helpless to fight him, but I scream just the same, begging and pleading.

He turns me to my side, spreading those slim welts on the sides of my legs and the backs of my thighs in the same way, as though I were a piece of art. He spends a little extra time on my ass and then turns me back to my front—leaving me no time to breathe and barely time to scream.

I am absolutely terrified when I see his face. 

He’s actually _aroused_. When he stops, I cross my legs, shaking, trembling, weeping, and I stammer, “Th-thank you for the punishment, m-master. I h-have learned n-never to a-appear b-before you except when u-unadorned. N-never to d-disrespect you.” And I hiccup, sobbing, trying to remember the other reason I was punished. “A-and never to l-look at you w-with a-anger or c-cause you e-embarrassment. I a-apologize, m-master. I h-hope I w-was a-able t-to p-please y-you.”

I am still openly sobbing—and I am aching, my body burning. I am afraid to look at him.

“You took your punishment surprisingly well, little Sanga. But you have not pleased me yet. Now, you _shall_ please me. Take me in your mouth.” 

I look up at him, making a confused expression.

“Master?”

“I said, take me in your mouth.” 

“I’m sorry—I-I d-don’t understand... m-master...” I look at him shyly.

He motions to his dick.

“Oh,” I say, blushing furiously. “I-I didn’t know it could be d-done that w-way, master.” That is very much a lie—I even thought about what it would be like to take Rai’s giant member in my mouth just this morning during the argument with my parents, and _this_ is the last thing I want to do. 

I approach somewhat timidly.

“If I feel a tooth or a fang, you will be punished, and severely,” he warns, and that warning flattens my ears. I’ve never done this before, so naturally, I am afraid.

I unbutton his breeches, and to my surprise, he has pale _white_ fur below his belly, not black. It’s thin and silky, and I comb through it gently with my fingers, but he pushes against me with his dick.

I was trying to be romantic, but okay.

I take a small lick along the shaft and kiss the tip. He is much bigger than me, but thank the heavens he’s not as large as Rai. I breathe a secret sigh of relief. Also, he seems to want to keep his clothes on, even though my come is on his trousers.

“Would you like me to undress you?” I offer.

“That won’t be necessary. I won’t be long,” he says.

Perhaps this means he will leave me “untouched,” as he said. Or... I can  _make_ him leave me untouched, I think slyly.

“Open your mouth wide and cover your fangs, and relax your throat.”

I obey, but as soon as I do, he immediately shoves himself into my mouth, grabbing my hair and pulling me, craning my neck.

“Relax your throat, I said. You’re a singer, I know you can do it,” he says again.

I think about singing and open my throat, and it helps—but it hurts—and I gag, again and again. I keep my fangs covered, thankfully, however. He is standing beside the bed I am on, and he is basically just using me as a hole.

“Your lips are plush and soft, little Sanga, just as I’d hoped. Round them off a little more, but keep those fangs covered, and _purr_.”

Purr? How the hell can I purr when he is assaulting me like this? Then—Dad’s words about spending my first night with Rai come into my head. Having good fantasy material can help, he said, so I fill my brain with thoughts of the silver cat. I flood myself with him, his image, and not only do I purr, but I pull forth my _song_.

“Good kitty,” Shiki says, stroking my hair softly now, as my purr vibrates—and his eyes widen. I look up at him through lowered lashes as my song bursts forth with my power which he has not yet experienced. There is a viable bond between us now—all because of my song—and I can feel his emotions. 

He can probably feel my fear. And also—in a few moments—when he is finished being drunk off this power trip—he will notice the presence of the silver cat’s image in my head—but he hasn’t noticed yet.

I start moaning, sighing, moving my head on my own like I am enjoying myself and him. And he stares down at me, and is enjoying seeing me—subjugated, covered in my own fluids, bleeding, in pain, but dedicated to his pleasure and _only_ his pleasure—and singing and purring for him and filling him with power.

“Ah—Konoe— _this_ is your power?” 

He used my name! I’ve never heard him use my name! 

“Shit— _this_ is the power of your song—and used during bonding—My gods, what’s it like during _battle_? Did I make—ah—a mistake—when I cut off your—ah—breath? Ah—gods—you feel so good—you’re so hot—seeing your lithe little body under my complete control—and now _this_ —my gods—ah—Yes—do it—Ah, Ah, Ah!” 

And I suck him, lick him, bob my head, grab his tail, and massage the base till he comes. I allow him to pull out of my mouth just as he comes—I know what he wants from the temporary bond we have—so he can see his come spray all over my face and in my hair, and I know he wants me to lick it. I obey disgusting wish, licking my lips a little. It’s so gross. But I do it to save myself from far worse.

Why? Because his original plan to fuck me with no preparation was too cruel. I’ve never been taken there before, and my ass is so sore, my skin so tender—I couldn’t stand him hurting me anymore.

Then—he sees the emotions flow the other direction—my emotions, my fantasies about Rai—right when my song stops—and he slaps me right in the face—hard enough that I see a sky full of stars.

“You little manipulative _bitch_!” 

Although now, he’s got his own come on his hand from where he slapped me. I’m lying on the bed, dazed.

“Master—didn’t I please you?” I try softly.

“Damn it!” He yells again. “You manipulated me on _purpose_ with your song!”

“But master—didn’t you want me to sing?” I ask. “I only did as you wished.” 

He raises his hand to me again, but before he can hit me, or worse, take the switch to me again, someone is pounding at the door.

“Shiki—Konoe—please—it’s an emergency! A messenger from Meigi has arrived, and he needs to speak with you urgently!” 

That’s Papa at the door.

“Can’t it wait till morning?” Shiki groans. "We're in the middle of something here."

“If it could, we would not have disturbed you. Please. We are coming in.” 

Dad is on Papa’s arm. 

“Shiki, is there something you’d like to tell us?”

“No, nothing at all,” he says, straightening his back and his breeches. “What is this about?”

“The messenger claims he is the _real_ contender for the Meigi Touga Prince, and that you stole his spot using unconventional means. He has some proof with him that you should see.” 

Shiki pales, standing in front of me at the bed, but I don’t move. I am staring at the bedspread and several more of the threads snap beneath my claws—just like that! I keep my hand in front of my mouth to keep myself from screaming out loud. 

“Join us, please.”

He stalks from the room.

And into the room, walks the large, silver presence I have been dreaming about. I know he isn’t my imagination—because of his wonderful scent—freshly fallen snow, sandalwood, cinnamon, maybe a bit of floral scent left in his hair from last night, too. 

“Rai?” I whisper.

“My precious little Sanga.” He drops to his knees beside my bed. “What has he _done_ to you? I’ve been _beside_ myself—listening to your cries. It reaches me _wherever_ I am in this castle, out on the grounds, in the forests. I couldn’t get away. They wouldn’t let me in, though I begged them. I found that traveler—he had been lost on his way to the castle—and I rushed him here to rid you of this imposter. But I couldn’t save you. May I treat your injuries? Please?”

When I look at his pale blue eyes—they are glazed—and his face is streaked with tears and dirt—his hair is tangled and a mess. His formerly perfect outfit is torn and dirty, covered in leaves like he’s rushed to return to the castle.

I reach both arms up to my silver cat, and he scoops me gently into his arms, careful not to hurt me. He feels so warm—so safe—so _right_.

“Konoe,” he whispers into my ear and gives it a little lick. I shiver slightly, and I settle into his arms. My body is sore, my jaw aches, my skin is torn up, my thighs and ass are burning—but I’m safe with Rai. When I realize that, I burst into fresh tears. 

“Let’s get you out of here,” Rai murmurs softly. He hugs me closely, nuzzles his face in my ears, and carries me from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Shiki, of course, coming to punish his "spoiled little Sanga" and take advantage of him for the night.
> 
> It turns out Shiki did deliberately set Konoe up to fail in the arena so he could punish him however he liked. He has three separate "punishments" in mind, which he thinks is reasonable, but the whole point is to subjugate Konoe. He has a particular number of strokes for each punishment, of course, but if Konoe moves or resists, does anything displeasing, he will earn himself a penalty round. You can imagine how this goes.
> 
> First, he whips Konoe with a small, narrow crop--which he handles reasonably well, but still earns himself a penalty. The penalty is much worse than the original punishment.
> 
> Second, a paddle--heavy--which Konoe does not handle well at all. He is forced to count. Because he has been drugged with catnip and so much blood is pooling in his groin, he starts to worry he might have an accident, but Konoe doesn't know how to alert Shiki to this. Just before the penalty round, Konoe cries about this, worried he might wet the bed, but Shiki realizes that's not the problem. During this penalty round, Konoe is forbidden to come, but Shiki purposefully arouses him--and of course, Konoe comes all over him, much to his shame.
> 
> This earns him an even greater punishment during the final round, which is a birching. Konoe is exhausted at this point, has basically lost his voice from crying and screaming, and earns himself yet another penalty round--and is beaten severely. He notices that Shiki himself is more than aroused now and expects oral sex afterward.
> 
> Konoe pretends not to know what this is, but Shiki is more than happy to show him--forcefully. Konoe manages not to bite him, and with the help of his fantasy (of Rai), manages to conjure up a song which establishes a bond with Shiki. This actually gives Konoe a modicum of control which he grabs with both hands, so to speak, and he works as hard as he can to get Shiki off--for the sake of his own protection. And he succeeds.
> 
> However, Shiki figures out what he has done just after he comes and is furious. He smacks Konoe--after coming in his face--and Konoe thinks getting a handful of his own stuff is just what he deserves.
> 
> But before the beatings can continue, there's an urgent pounding at the door. It's his parents, saying a messenger from the Meigi has arrived. Apparently, a mistake was made and Shiki is actually a pretender to the Prince Touga position. He isn't even the person who should be fucking Konoe right now. Konoe is about to lose his mind at this point.
> 
> And before he can start screaming--Rai comes in--asking if he can care for his "precious little Sanga." And considering the other names Konoe has been called that evening, our spoiled little kitten, who is not exactly so spoiled anymore, bursts into tears, and lets his silver cat take him in his arms.
> 
> Yeah--I'm mean, but not that mean.
> 
> So also, if you are interested in what becomes of Shiki, PLEASE check out Nicole Premier's story, The Devil and the Touga: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150078. You're in for a treat!


	10. Much-needed TLC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftercare with Rai, Konoe comes to a realization.

Rai carries me to my chambers—not to his—but I don’t notice or care. I just want to be with him. I feel strangely safe. I’m just so relieved to be away from Shiki at this point. My father’s words go through my head: “The messenger claims he is the _real_ contender for the Meigi Touga Prince, and that you stole his spot using unconventional means. He has some proof with him that you should see.” Does this mean I went through that pain, suffering, and most of all, _humiliation_ , for nothing?

I suddenly feel sick—absolutely nauseated. I clutch Rai’s collar and try to give him some warning, but no words come. My mouth fills up with saliva and I start gagging. I’m going to throw up!

Rai catches on right away and hurries me into the bathing chamber, where he lets me throw up in the shower right next to the drain. He is rubbing my back through the blanket I was covered in, holding my disgusting hair out of my face, as my body heaves. I haven’t eaten much today, so I’m a little surprised at how much comes out of my mouth. I know Shiki gave me water while I was in there, I throw up so much that eventually, all that comes out is bile.

“It’s all right now, Konoe,” Rai whispers to me, and he kisses my ear. I must smell horrible—I can still smell Shiki on me, I’m covered with my own sweat, and his come is matted in my hair. But Rai doesn’t seem to care or be disgusted with me. “You’re going to be all right.”

He stands up for a moment and I whimper.

“Please—don’t leave me,” I whine softly. I sound like a child. My throat hurts from crying and screaming.

“I won’t,” the silver cat says. “But you need to drink something and probably eat as well. You’ll be horribly dehydrated. Let me fetch something, all right? I’ll be two minutes, at most.”

Before he leaves, he turns on the shower. Hot water pours over my back and shoulders—and it feels so good. It burns when it touches the skin on my backside and my legs, however, so I face the other direction, letting it rinse my hair.

I hardly realize the time he is gone. I'm just watching the water drip through my hair, down my face, and onto my lap. I’m sitting on a shower stool so I won’t slip. I don’t know why I’m so exhausted—but could it be that singing for a Touga is much more taxing than simply singing my song for practice? I hear nothing but the sound of the water flowing from the faucet and dripping into my ears, and it’s soothing. Soon, this awful evening will be completely washed from me.

And then—it hits me for real—for the second time—that I didn’t _need_ to suffer through any of that. Shiki was an _imposter_. He isn't the real prince of Meigi. I didn’t need to do any of that—I didn’t need to suffer through any of his torment. I am filled with a feeling I don’t quite recognize—but it clouds the corners of my vision—then my vision goes red. My head starts to throb, and my heart is pounding loudly in my ears, and I touch my lips. I can feel my fangs and I am unable to retract them. When I look down at my hands, my claws are extended fully, too, and my tail bristles.

Anger? Rage? Fury? Indignation? All of these, perhaps.

I remember the state of the bedspread—the easily snapped silk threads that you’d really only notice if you took a close look—and I wonder if that’s what it looks like inside my head, thanks to Shiki. My heart thumps hard and painfully—two loud, uneven beats—making me clutch at my chest.

I still have these damned cuffs on my wrists and ankles, and the collar, too. Suddenly I need them off of me. I have to get them off my body. I want _nothing_ left of that cat on my body. I struggle with ones at my ankles—yanking them off violently—and am struggling with the one on my left wrist when Rai comes back in.

“Hey, let me help you.” His voice is soft and gentle, and he easily unbuckles the restraint and casts it aside, putting it out of my view. “Let me get the collar, too. It’s all right. Don’t cry anymore. You’re all right now. You’re safe now.”

“I didn’t _have_ to go through _any_ of that!” I spit. “There was no _point_ to any of it!” I realize my voice comes out in a sob. I am actually crying—I can’t believe I still have tears left to cry. And I am so angry! I do not want to waste another tear on that asshole! “I have shed so many tears this evening—I don’t want to waste even one more on that guy!”

“No,” whispers Rai, pulling me in close to him again. “But if you weep because you’re in pain, or you’re hurt, or you’re grieving your lost innocence, that’s all right. Go ahead. Those tears are worth it. It’s okay.”

He is still dressed, getting drenched under the shower, while I am sobbing. As soon as I can take an uneven, shaky breath to get a hold of myself, he offers me a glass of lemonade.

“Just a sip,” he says. “Try drinking just a sip.”

I do, and it tastes so good. It feels good going down my sore throat. And I manage another shaking breath.

“Your father gave this to me as well. Maybe you should drink it, if you think you can keep it down. He said it would help your pain.”

There’s a small bottle on the tray. I look at it for a moment. I know Papa made it for me—I wonder if he knew what was going to happen tonight in Shiki's room. He probably had an idea when he sent me in there. And if he didn’t, he heard what was going on, for sure. The walls are _not_ soundproof and I wasn’t quiet. And he probably thinks this potion makes up for what was done to me.

That makes me _not_ want to drink it. I look at it and think of throwing it on the floor of the shower—but that would waste its potential. I should just take advantage of it. It will probably help me feel better. I pop open the cork and pour it down my throat. It has a bittersweet minty taste and it contains a high alcohol content. I can tell he’s sweetened it with honey, like he usually does (and he only does this for my drinks, I know). I chase it with another sip of lemonade to wash away the unpleasant aftertaste.

“Let me wash your hair.”

I nod, and I flinch just a little when Rai's hands touch my head and ears. But I am soon used to the feeling, and it is nice. Slender fingers massage my scalp, my ears, and even my tail (careful not to touch my ass) and then he rinses me. He even repeats it before putting the conditioner in my hair. He pulls a comb through my hair and fur once the conditioner massaged through.

“Can you stand?” he asks.

I don’t want to stand. I’m sitting this way for a reason—so my skin does not come in contact with the water.

“We need to rinse off your body, little one.”

“Why?”

“Your skin—it’s a mess. I have a salve that will soothe you once you’re out of the shower, but your skin has to be clean. You may get an infection otherwise.”

“Please—don’t make me do this.” My voice hitches in another sob.

“Konoe, I don’t want to _make_ you do anything. But if you don’t, the consequences will be much worse. Do you understand?”

He’s terribly persuasive. Or else… that potion I drank has something strange about it. Maybe Dad sang over it? Did he do something to it? It’s making me feel weird.

On wobbly knees—I stand up, and Rai loops my arms around his neck. He is drenched.

“Good kitten,” he whispers gently. I remember Shiki praising me, too—but it never made me feel like this. He turns my back toward the spray of the water, and I’m so scared. My entire body stiffens and shakes. “It’s all right. If it’s too much, I can wash you down with a cloth. I just thought this would be faster—get it all done at once. Let me know if it's painful. Relax your body—except for those arms. Keep a firm grip on me, okay?”

“Okay.” Again, my voice comes out in a whimpering sob. Now, when the water flows down over my back and shoulders, it feels good—and I’m waiting for it to hit the torn skin of my lower back, butt, and thighs—and expecting it to burn like fire. Instead—I feel a clean, almost cool sensation when the water washes over me. It’s very strange.

“Are you all right?” Rai asks, and he guides my body underneath the shower, making sure the water rinses all of me.

“Mmm hmm,” I assent.

“Do you mind if I try a little soap? I have some gentle antiseptic. It may sting a little, but it looks like he used a birch on you, and there are small pieces of bark imbedded in your skin that should be cleaned.”

“Okay,” I say, absolutely miserable.

He brushes his hands through my ears.  
  
“Gods, even like this you’re absolutely adorable.”

He uses both hands to clean me up, while I cling to him desperately. I think—but I can’t quite tell—he is holding a cloth in one hand and the bottle of antiseptic in the other. He gently dabs the cloth over my skin and then rinses it as he goes along. It stings, but it’s really not that painful. There are a few places—along my sit spot and thighs—that still throb, but what he is doing doesn’t make anything worse. And I’m relaxed and comfortable in his arms. In fact, I am amazed when I hear a rumbling sound in my chest. I am purring.

“Shit,” I hear him murmur, and he kisses my ears again. “You’re so sweet. And I’m done here. Let’s rinse your hair and tail and get you dried off.”

“Okay.”

I allow him to do just that—enjoying the feeling of his long, sharp claws running through my fur and hair, massaging through my scalp again, as I watch the milky colored water drip down my body and flow down the drain. The floor is an uneven pebble surface, and it feels good on the soles of my feet—like a massage when I stand on it—mostly small, rounded and oval pebbles lying close together surrounded with grout. I was told that the drainage actually waters the garden, too. That thought—that the remains of this horrible, abusive day will go toward making those gorgeous flowers bloom—is somewhat redemptive. _I_ have used Shiki in the end, haven’t I?

Rai turns off the water and kisses my downcast eyelids.

“Come. Let’s get you dried off and warmed up, and I want to treat that skin. Can you drink a little more?”

“Okay,” I say, and I accept a little more of that sparkling lemonade. It’s lovely—sweet and sour, like kuims—only a little more sour—and the bubbling in my mouth settles my stomach nicely.

I try to walk to the bedroom but my knees buckle. Rai catches me.

“Whoops—it looks like the medicine is working. How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy, I think?”

“Let me help you. You can always ask me for help, if you want,” Rai reminds me, gently. “I’m here to help you.”

He lifts me up and puts me on the bed, wrapped in a towel, face down. First, he towels off my hair—very thoroughly.

I prop my chin up on my elbows. He’s soaked through—his clothes clinging to him, his silk blouse ruined. I can even see his nipples—which are erect from the chill in the room—through the white fabric. It's giving me a weird urge to groom him.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask. “I have an extra robe in my closet if you’d like something to wear. I’m sorry I ruined your beautiful clothes.”

He kisses my nose.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me to strip for you.” A small smirk plays on the corners of his lips.

To my surprise, I find myself blushing—all the way to the tips of my ears.

Without getting the robe first, he unbuttons his blouse and strips it off—right in front of me—while maintaining eye contact. Then he unbuckles his belt—clink, clink—and strips off his trousers. His shoes were already off, as were his stockings. He gives me a sexy little smile and turns around to slide out of his underwear—and man—what a nice ass he has! It’s absolutely perfect in every way—though when his tail is wet and bristled, it looks so funny—like a porcupine—and it’s not going to cover him quite as well.

And it doesn’t… and I’d almost forgotten how large he is. And shit—he’s excited, but he smiles and walks over to the wardrobe and pulls out one of my robes. He chooses the plainest one—a simple cotton lawn robe in a pale blue with gold threading. He can wear it as it is, without folding it at the waist, which he ties with a blue obi.

“Let’s get this hair combed.”

“Does yours tangle if you don’t comb it?”

“Sometimes, but it behaves itself for the most part,” he says. His is already drying—and it dries straight, shiny and perfect. Mine has a bit more of a wave, and it dries messy.

He runs a comb through his own, and not a single strand pulls or snaps. I’m a little jealous. He has to really work the comb through mine, even after conditioning it.

“Your hair is so lovely and thick, just like your fur—only like spun gold,” Rai murmurs—and it feels mesmerizing when he combs it. I start to close my eyes.

It takes about five minutes for him to comb it—and I realize he is doing something else to it as well—maybe braiding it? Then I wake up fully when a cool breeze shivers across my bare skin. He has removed the towel from my body.

“Let’s treat this skin of yours, my poor little Sanga. It shouldn’t hurt, I’ve been told, but it will feel cold. All right?”

My ears perk up when I hear him open the jar, and he starts applying cream to the welts on my skin. It is cold, but it doesn’t sting. He doesn’t rub it in, just leaves it on the surface to absorb. The touch of his fingers is making me feel a little strange, too. I know—I’m exhausted. I’ve had a rough evening of singing, being beaten and punished, being intimidated and afraid, having my role as a prince reversed and thrown in my face. And yes, I’ve already come once. By all rights, I shouldn’t feel like I am feeling. And when he turns me to my side, to treat the wounds from that last beating, I start to feel a little panicky.

“That’s all right. I can get those myself,” I protest softly.

“Just let me,” the silver cat insists. “I want to.”

“But—”

“Hush now.”

He pushes me onto my back and applies the cream to my thighs. Those welts hurt so much when Shiki beat me—but the cream doesn’t hurt. Having Rai treat me so tenderly brings tears to my eyes. But surely, he can see my current state of arousal?

However, he ignores it for now, turning me to the other side, where he can treat the side of my leg, and then turns me back to my stomach for a moment.

“Why on earth would anyone treat you so harshly?” Rai murmurs. “Do you hurt anywhere else? Did I miss anything?”

“The soles of my feet,” I say.

“What?” Rai gasps when he bends my leg at the knee. “Oh, my gods.” He applies a little cream to each of my soles as well. “He beat the soles of your feet, too?” He plants little kisses on my toes—one by one—sucking them into his mouth. At first, I think— _no_ —my toes are dirty! But I did just shower, so they really _aren’t_ dirty. And it feels so good—his mouth and tongue around my little toes—warm and cozy and wet… and a little bit lewd.

No, more than a _little_ bit lewd. The touch goes straight to my hips and pools there. My breathing picks up a little more.

“Anywhere else?”

“Um, no. But… Rai?”

“What is it?”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Of course. I hated that I couldn’t save you from this.” He strokes me softly, from the tips of my ears down my back, letting his fingertips wander down the length of my body—gently, softly, tenderly. And I am thinking of one single thing.

I should have let him fuck me yesterday. I want _him_ to be the one to take me for the first time. It is stupid that I was so afraid yesterday. So perhaps today…

“Rai,” I hear myself say. “I made a mistake.”

“What?” he asks.

“I think I made a terrible mistake—on our first night together. I let my fear dictate what we did, and you were so gentle with me. But I think— _no_. I _want_ you to be my first.”

Rai doesn’t say anything. It scares me a little. Is he declining? I persist.

“Please. I realized it tonight. That if it isn’t you, it will be one of those others. And I don’t _want_ them. I will have to submit—and I would much rather it be you. No—it’s not that I’d rather it be you. I _want_ it to be you. I was just afraid. I was overwhelmed and afraid. I _know_ you will treat me with care. And if I have that experience with you first, then I won’t be so afraid of those others.”  
  
“Konoe.” Rai’s voice sounds almost strained. “You are injured. And I’m not exactly sure what was in that potion, but it may have been catnip. That works as an aphrodisiac, you know. You may be suffering the effects of it right now, and you may not be in your right mind.”

“Rai— _please_!” I beg. “I know that—but even before, when I was with Shiki, all I could think about was your kindness, and how I regretted taking advantage of it last night. Please—won’t you just please, please… fuck me?”

I can feel the silver cat almost flinch behind me when I ask him to do this.

“I will _sing_ for you—I will do _anything_ you like—just, _please_ … I need this! From you. You said you would help me. And this is what I need to make it through the week. I cannot do this without you. I know you will be gentle. Rai, please won’t you make me yours?”

“Konoe—you mean right now?” Rai sounds slightly nervous, but he cannot hide the desire in his voice.

“I know it’s unfair of me to ask. And if you don’t want to take me gently, that’s all right, too. I would do anything—just because it’s you.”

“I would never hurt you, Konoe.” But he isn’t touching me. Why won’t he touch me?

“I do not want to see another Touga tomorrow without knowing what to expect! Please… will you help me? Rai— _please_!” I can feel tears burning my eyes, and I sit up, turning around to face him.

He looks confused, but his face is clouded over with passion. I _know_ I can convince him when I see that expression—I just have to figure out what words to say. So… I decide to take a risk.

I climb down from the bed and get on the floor.

“Oy—what are you doing? Get back in bed!” Rai sounds terribly concerned.

“Please,” I beg softly. I prostrate my body on the floor, on all fours, and I bow before him and lower my head on my hands. “I am so grateful for your wonderful, tender care of me. And I know I am being selfish by asking for more. I am a spoiled kitten—I _know_. I hate to ask you for more, but I _have_ to ask, and I am _begging_ you. Please, won’t you make love to me? Rai, _please_.”

I sneak a peek up at Rai’s face under my lowered lashes, and his eyes are fully dilated—shockingly dark from his normal pale blue. He is so beautiful that it sends a shock through my body. My tail starts moving back and forth a little wantonly, and I simply allow it. So I go on.

“I desire you. I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. I am still slightly afraid, but I trust you. Won’t you please, _please_ make love to me? Quench this thirst in my heart?” I am pleading with him with all that I’ve got.

Rai pulls me up off the floor into his arms and kisses me—deeply.

“I can hardly refuse if you ask me like that. My gods, you’re irresistible. What am I going to do with you?”


	11. Setsura v. Sisa, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe and Rai have the sex.

I was right—and Papa was right. He is the right choice. I should have allowed him to do this last night if only my fear hadn’t overtaken me.

My body is still awfully tender. But Rai is so careful with me, moving me onto the bed gently, being careful not to scrape my skin against anything—even his fine silk bedsheets. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Rai asks again, after kissing me on the mouth. He is moving slowly—and his hands trace down my body. “We can wait—till tomorrow if you like. It might be better for you.” 

“No—please,” I beg, grabbing his hair as he pulls away and making him look up at me. “This is what I want. You—are what I want.”

That soft smile shows on his lips again—and I’m struck by his good looks. When he smiles I would let him do anything he asked—I wonder if he knows this, however. 

“There is a way we can do this so your backside doesn’t touch the sheets,” Rai says.

“What? How? Please—that would be easiest, I think,” I say.

“All right. I’ll prepare you first.” He slips out of the robe, shamelessly standing before me—and I realize what a treat it is to see him so confident in his body. He is already at attention, too, I notice with just a little bit of dread. “Konoe, we can stop at any time. This is your show, after all. You just say the word. If it hurts, tell me. I will stop or move more slowly. But since it’s your first time, there may be some pain and discomfort. After all, you’ve never taken anything here before.”

He brushes his hand across my entrance, and it makes me shiver—I think in anticipation rather than fear.

“I will also tell you what I’m doing, how I will touch you, as I am going, okay, Konoe?”

“Okay,” I say, and my voice sounds nervous. 

He grabs a jar—something he has brought with him to “ease the passage,” he explains with a smile. 

“This may feel a little strange to you, but I want you to sit in my lap here.” Rai spreads a towel on the chaise lounge, stretching out his legs, and pulls me into his lap, facing the side, so my ass is partway off his thighs and my legs are dangling off the side. “If you feel you might fall, put your arms around my neck, but I promise I won’t drop you.”

I don’t feel like I'm falling, but I want to touch him, so I put my arm around his neck. I look at him and consider kissing him—I even start tilting my chin up toward his for a second—but I don’t know what this preparation entails, so I am nervous about distracting him. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” He smiles down at me.

“Yes,” I whisper, almost like I’m guilty. 

“You may, of course.” He offers his mouth to mine. “But both my hands will be occupied here for a moment.”

I’m already aroused, and he scoops up the contents from the jar on his fingers—a small amount. 

“I want your body nice and relaxed before we start, so I am going to stroke your cock with my hand before I prepare you with my fingers.”

Gods—even hearing him say that makes my skin shiver. I kiss his lips again and run my fingers through his hair. I’m not afraid of him—except when I look down, I see his dick. So intimidating—there’s no way that would fit in any of my orifices.

“You can touch me, too, if you like.” 

When he says that, his fingers wrap around my shaft, and he starts stroking, gently, firm but slow strokes. I immediately respond with a loud, wet purr, my hips moving helplessly in time with his movements. The lubrication makes the touch so much smoother, and I don’t mind the slick sound, either.

After a few minutes, and my positive response, I see him scoop up a lot more lubricant with his other hand.

“Are you ready?” 

He’s quite clever about “relaxing” my body first since I feel like putty in his hands. I nod, and he paints some of the lubricant over my entrance, just beneath my tail. It’s a strange feeling—intrusive and a little frightening, and my ears flatten. 

“Cold!” I complain. 

He chuckles lightly and says, “Your body will warm it up soon enough.”

Then, he tricks me. He stops stroking my dick, and instead, squeezes me gently, but his touch gets firmer and firmer. While he squeezes me, I feel that other finger beneath my tail, painting around the outside of my entrance. It doesn’t feel good or bad—it tickles a little, and makes me want to lower my tail. But then I feel his thumb—no, I _watch_ his thumb—press into the slit of my dick. I arch my back, fluff out my bristled tail, lifting it up at the base, and gasp in pleasure. He’s caused several thick transparent drops of liquid to spill from the top, which he uses to spread around the tip of my dick. And it feels amazing!

I do more than gasp now—I cry out loud, indicating my delight, and I hear him purr in response.

However—at that same time, that other sneaky hand has worked a single finger inside me—right when I arch my back. He presses gently through that ring of muscles and pushes inside.

“Konoe.” 

His purring voice whispers right in my ear. It makes me shiver with delight. And while that finger feels foreign, it doesn’t hurt. However, at the moment, I’m concentrating on the sensation and attention being lavished on my cock. His hand starts moving again—this time sometimes deliberately stopping to press into my slit—which always drives me a little crazy. In fact, within a few minutes, I notice that when his hand slows, my breath and heart rate reflexively pick up, because I know the pleasure that is coming just around the corner. It’s as if he’s trained me!

My fur bristles and lifts at the base the next time his hands start to slow—and that finger comes out completely. He scoops up a little more lube and this time, I feel two fingers pressing inside me, while I lift my tail, exposing myself shamelessly and willingly. I gasp and sigh when his thumb presses into the tip of my cock—and my ears twitch when I feel those two fingers scissor apart to spread me open.

The sensation is so strange—it’s certainly not pain. I’m shocked—but I think it feels good! 

“Are you all right? I forgot to tell you I was going to add a second finger—I was slightly distracted.” Rai looks embarrassed, but of course, he doesn’t blush.

“Um, yeah,” I murmur, and I glance down at his cock again. I’ve never touched my own—but I can watch what he is doing, can’t I? So I too reach for the jar of lube, and I look up at his face—just taking a quick peek—and his pupils are fully dilated and just the tips of his upper fangs are showing over his bottom lip. His ears are twitching, too—it’s adorable—and I find myself awfully aroused just at the sight of him.

I wrap my hand around his cock, making deliberate and slow movements. When I have my hand around him, I squeeze him—firmer and firmer—and then pull my hand upward, circling around the rim slowly before getting to the tip. When I press my thumb into the head, clear transparent drops leak from him, too—and I’m rewarded with a small hissing sigh.

And the movement is mimicked on me at the same time—only he also scissors apart the fingers inside me, making me almost cry out loud.

We go on like this for some time—he adds a third finger, too—until my body is covered with sweat. I’m so very aroused that I can hardly concentrate on his cock.

“Rai,” I whisper, my entire body trembling. My tail is quivering desperately, wrapped around his arm.

“Are you all right? Do you want me to stop?” He whispers into my ear and licks it. 

“No. I’m feeling rather excited,” I say. Rai has been careful to keep me interested and get me close to climax, but not to actually climax. He slows down or loosens his grip if I start making too much noise.

“I think you are ready.” He pulls his fingers out of my body and looks up at my face. He applies a little more lube to the outside of my entrance with the tips of his fingers—curling them in, making me arch my back out for more—I had no idea how sensitive I was back there! Then he slathers his own cock with enough lube to make it slick and shiny. It still looks so large.

He holds up his fingers next to his cock for a moment.

“Konoe, look.”

Embarrassed, I obey, wondering what this is about. He wiggles his three fingers—keeping them together then spreading them apart.

“These were just inside you. The difference is that my fingers have bones, and they separate. But see, you can do this.”

My flattened ears perk back up when I see the comparison—and his cock is longer, more dense, but close in girth.

“Also, _you_ are going to control the initial penetration.”

“What? I can’t! I don’t know how!” I’m flooded with panic for a moment. 

“I will help you. You’re going to be fine. It may be tight at first, but I know you will find pleasure by the end. Do you trust me?” 

I do, and I nod my head.

“So get your tight little body up here. Kneel over me.” His commanding voice sounds husky and low.

I quirk my eyebrows but I obey. I put my legs on either side of his lap and kneel up over him. 

“You get to control how fast or slow penetration is. Now, just so you know, the head is the widest part, so it may be uncomfortable. Just take it slow. I’ll support you from below, okay?”

“Um, okay,” I am hesitant.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” His sexy eyes look at me imploringly, but he’s really earnest. “We can stop now, and I can do something else.”

“I-i want to connect with you—and I want you to be my first, Rai,” I say firmly, and so I raise myself up on my knees. I feel him lining himself up with my body—and I am terribly nervous and also very excited when his cock touches outside of my entrance. It tingles a little—but he feels so hot—much warmer than his fingers.

“Now, you should be able to let your weight help you, and you can lean forward or backward a bit, whichever is more comfortable.”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

Rai has wiped the lubricant from his hands on the towel, and he cups my face.

“You are so adorable, do you know that? And are you sure this is what you want?” He has a soft smile on his face. “We can still do other stuff.” 

“I’m sure,” I say, a little bolder now, and I lower my body just a little, feeling the heat of him pressing inside. 

“In that case, let me just say I cannot wait to feel what it’s like inside you,” he whispers. Then he puts his hands on my hips to help guide me.

It _hurts_. His cock is much harder and less pliant than his fingers, I think. But I try my best—and I’m motivated. 

To help support my weight, Rai moves his hands from my hips to the front and back of my body—which allows him to stroke my dick and the base of my tail—and mixing pleasure with this strange pain of feeling split open is a strange combination. 

Sighs and gasps spill from my lips, and I lower my hips down onto his dick—and I hear him sigh with pleasure.

“You can move more slowly if it’s painful,” he says, his voice sounds quite desperate now, and that gives me motivation.

Of course, it’s painful—but he’s stimulating me, too. I keep my eyes open half-way, watching his expression—his Adam's apple bobs up and down like he is trying to suppress his voice. I put my fingers on his mouth and whisper, “I want to hear you, too.”

“You feel perfect,” he purrs. “So warm, so willing, so yielding. Like this place was made for me.” 

I’m embarrassed by his words, and I say, “I meant your sighs— I want to hear your pleasure, too.” 

I feel Rai’s hand at the base of my tail, and it drops down slightly below my entrance—where my thighs and bottom meet. This part of me was punished so harshly today, and now, he runs tickling fingers across it. It feels nice.

A few times he takes my lips when my discomfort becomes too great—kissing me so my cries go into his mouth—and while I feel some pain, it’s nothing compared to what I suffered with Shiki.

I feel a sense of surprise when my bottom rests on Rai’s thighs, and he lets out a great sigh. I cannot believe he is inside me—it’s a surreal feeling. He looks almost wild with his pupils blown and his fangs showing. He runs his hands down my shoulders, my waist, my belly, my back, my hips, my thighs—like he’s making sure I’m really here. We are connected—he is physically sharing my body—just like my song did to him yesterday. 

“Konoe,” he says again. And I love to hear him say my name in that voice. Especially now—he’s even huskier and more hoarse than he was last night. “You feel so good. Let’s give you a little time to adjust, okay?”

I think he means wait, but instead, he stimulates the base of my tail and strokes my dick—and soon, that makes me start rocking my hips a little.

“It looks like you’re ready to move?” 

It’s such a full feeling, but wonderful to be connecting with him this way—and my first time. Rai starts rocking his hips slowly—and at first, everything is tight and uncomfortable. But sooner than I expect, I get a numbing tingling sensation running up my spine whenever he thrusts. And I rock with him.

Then, he starts to thrust in earnest—and in retrospect, I have no idea how he does this with me on his lap. He holds my hips—and I think he’s holding me in place, and thrusts upward, trying out several angles, watching my face, listening to the sounds I’m making. Then suddenly—I feel something very different and very pleasant.

A sudden wave zips through my body, like a chill running up my spine—very unlike the stimulation he has been giving my dick. It feels like I’m falling, almost—but falling into a deep, dark chasm. My voice totally lets go in a wheezing sort of cry. My chest hurts—just from that single thrust. I expect that pleasure to feel more localized, but it isn’t—it seems to spread through my body in a very deep way. 

“Did I find it?” Rai is looking at my face, smiling. 

He did that on purpose? He can repeat it? I’m suddenly filled almost with dread when he drags his cock across that same spot again, and I cry out again—just as loud. I suddenly become quite frightened by what is to come—I don’t think I can handle very much of that kind of stimulation, and I look up at him with my scared expression.

“There you go,” he says, pleased, comforting me with soft kisses on my face, ears, and throat. 

He starts moving in and out of my body—which is now accustomed to his size, and not painful in the least—and the pleasure I am feeling is unbelievable—close to terrifying. My own cock is dripping wet and rock hard, and I am tempted to stroke it myself, just to give myself a little bit more stimulation.

He glances down at me, and he is still bracing my hips, keeping both his hands on my body for support. He moves one toward the back, so he can grasp the base of my tail, but really, he is holding me up by the strength of his arms. I see his muscles flexing. I am doing no work at all—simply letting him fuck me—even though I am on top. 

“Go ahead,” he whispers in my ear. “Do you want to touch yourself? I want to watch.”

I’ve never been allowed to or encouraged to do such a thing, but when his tongue dips into my ear, making me shiver, I move my right hand down to my shaft, leaving my left draped around his neck, and start to stroke myself—gently at first. I think about how he touched me—touched both of us—yesterday, and that heats me up, even more. I am so hard it’s nearly painful, and I cry out again in regular intervals when Rai brushes that strange place inside me.

The pleasure of my hand on my cock, however, is very localized, very specific, and very hot. At first, I stroke my shaft, and then bring my hand up over the rim and tip, which is more sensitive, pressing my thumb into the slit. Liquid spills out, making my motions smoother, and I feel so lewd. Rai is watching what I am doing, and his pupils grow even larger, his ears get fluffier.

“You are so beautiful, Konoe,” he whispers, and he licks my ear again, and then brings my mouth in for a deep kiss. 

The pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming—and my chest gets hot, and I feel a song from deep within my heart. I just let it come—and it bursts open from my chest—vibrating my bones suddenly, shuddering my skin and my flesh, trembling around his cock inside me, and I hear him gasp in surprise.

The song is so strange in this context—singing my Sanga tune without purposefully choosing to sing is a new experience for me. Even when I was with Shiki, I sang on purpose—I was the one who pulled that song from within myself. This feels like the song was pulled out of my body by Rai—just like he is about to pull another climax from me.

It’s a different song than the one I sang for him in the arena—however, we still have that same connection. This song seems to have a message—one of its own, one I didn’t choose to share on purpose, actually. It’s saying something like, “Take me, make love to me, I am all yours.” I don’t disagree with the song’s meaning, of course—it’s just that I don’t know where the song came from.

Rai’s eyes melt into mine and his ears twitch when he hears the melody, and he moves even faster, stroking my tail, attacking my ears with an almost beast-like ferocity. He almost frightens me, but I find him so enchanting, I can’t look away.  
  
It’s only a few minutes before I find myself at the edge—and I can’t turn back. I come into my own fist—and I cry out his name when I do—and he follows right after, spilling inside of me. My vision and thoughts turn empty for a moment and my body tingles in delight and pleasure, before being filled with heavy relaxation. I watch as his tail stiffens and bristles before it relaxes—and I wonder if mine did the same.

I am soon sitting on his lap with his cock still inside of me, collapsed against his chest, my breath ragged, my mind empty, my body purring and content. I could stay like this forever—and that’s where my mind stays for now. I will only think about tonight—I will not worry about tomorrow.

It’s very late now, I know, and the morning will be here soon—but that will be the start of a new day. And I will deal with that when the time comes.

“Thank you,” I whisper. 

Rai laughs softly, and he gently lifts my body up off of him. His cock is still stiff, so when it is removed from me, I feel a strange sense of loss—as well as fluid that leaks out of my body and down my thighs. It’s a strange sensation. 

He grabs a small towel from the side of the chaise and wipes me off, then scoops me up and brings me over to the bed.

“You are probably exhausted, kitten. Though you were absolutely wonderful. How did you find it? Was it terribly painful?”

I think it did hurt for a little bit, but strangely, I can’t remember any of the pain now. All I can remember is the pleasure. It’s a rather strange sensation. 

“No—well, maybe it hurt a little, but I can’t really remember. It felt so good after we got going that I can’t remember the part that hurt.”

“I’m glad,” Rai whispers. “Let’s bathe in the morning. You’re exhausted now—especially after your song. And you need rest.”

“Okay,” I agree. “May I stay with you?” 

“Of course, if you will have me,” Rai says. 

He climbs into bed with me, cuddles up behind me, and starts grooming my ears. I fall asleep to that gentle grooming, almost surprised that my parents don’t come barging in, telling me I have broken the rules by letting him spend the night with me a second time. If they did, I would throw a fit—it’s their fault Shiki did all that horribly degrading stuff to me, so I am still upset enough not to want to speak to them.

But I don't think about it now. No. Now, I will just enjoy the feeling of that rough tongue on my ears and the sound of his breathing. And I will sleep.


	12. An introduction to Ransen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Bardo’s turn with our little prince today. Konoe’s confidence is shot, but Bardo is not as scary as he seems. After breakfast together, Bardo suggests a short walk in the garden, so he can get to know Konoe’s situation a little better.

The next morning, my staff arrives to help me bathe and dress. They are surprised to find me in bed with the Setsuran Touga, of course. Jacques, in particular, can’t seem to keep his eyes to himself, which wander all over Rai’s body, hanging around his legs and ass. We slept nude and uncovered—Rai, as a long-haired breed, gets warm at night.  His body always feels warm to me, so the blankets I usually use weren’t needed. I wonder if he never uses them at home, or if he has lighter ones. I think to ask if he is comfortable here, or if he requires different bedding.

“I am fine. I was _especially_ fine last night,” he murmurs softly, but loud enough for my staff to hear. He is pulling on his clothes, unconcerned about exposing himself. Even I usually at least pull on something—a sheet or a towel or my underwear—before my staff enters. But he doesn’t care. “Let me know if I can ‘be fine’ again another evening. Or perhaps if you have time before dinner.”

“What?” The word slips out of my mouth. Servants gossip and I look up sharply at him. His eyebrows are raised. I mean, I guess we have been caught already. He smiles, then walks over to the bed. My staff is preparing my bath.

“Would you like me to stay and bathe with you?” He asks boldly. “I feel I’m responsible for your current state. Or shall I return to my quarters so you don’t miss breakfast?”

My ears flatten slightly, and they feel very warm. He leans over the bed, cups my chin, and kisses me—right in front of everyone! I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my _parents_ kiss! Maybe once, when I was very young and they thought I wouldn’t remember, perhaps. I’m sure Papa instigated it, Dad worrying that I might be exposed to something I shouldn’t see—and in retrospect, that seems so strange now. Dad has always been more affectionate to me, after all.

But I can’t deny the warmth I feel in the openness of that kiss, and I don’t shy away. But I do need to see my next suitor. So I say, “Maybe we should get up earlier next time,” which earns me another smile.

However, Jacques won’t stop talking about Rai after he leaves.

“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him!”

I’ve had enough after I’ve bathed—and my wounds are treated again and look much better than last night. I worry about how my body will look to the suitor from Ransen. Will he think it’s all right to beat me if my skin looks like this? Plus, it’s shameful to have my staff see me nude and exposed to treat these wounds. I’m grateful they don’t say anything now, but I’m sure tongues will wag later. Once I’m dressed, I examine myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a deep rich burgundy and ivory today, form-fitting for the battlefield, my hair braided to the back. I’m satisfied with my look, so I head to breakfast.

I meet the new Meigi prince with some degree of suspicion, though he is tall and lean. He has golden brown hair and pale skin. I can’t believe he is the actual Meigi Touga until I see his eyes. His nearly violet eyes are so deep that they grip my soul when I gaze at them. He definitely uses magic—I can tell by his gaze alone. He introduces himself as Nicole but tells me to call him Nano. He offers his apologies for Shiki, promising he will deal with him personally and severely. His expression doesn’t change when he talks of Shiki, but it warms slightly when I mention I’m looking forward to getting to know him. When he brushes my fingers, I swear I can feel magic running through him. It’s almost eerie.

I can’t imagine he was overpowered or outsmarted by Shiki. I just can’t. I long to ask him more, but my other guests wait, so I will have to save it for our time together.

I greet Tokino first, and then overly-eager Asato, and then Rai—as though we didn’t just spend the night together—and then turn to today’s suitor: Bardo, the old man from Ransen.

I danced with him two nights ago, and he moved well, but he sounded slightly salacious. This morning, he is all smiles, but terribly, embarrassingly flirtatious. I hardly know how to handle my flustered self. Again, I’ve always been treated like a beautiful creature, but never like an object nor has anyone dared to flirt with me.

I almost feel Bardo _enjoys_ teasing me—but he wouldn’t dare. It’s my job to submit to him, however, and I’m nervous. He’s awfully big—as tall as Rai and broader. He could easily hurt me. And if I displease him, it would be problematic. It’s just awkward, and I find myself slightly wary and not at all confident—especially not after my evening with Shiki—though I would be much _less_ confident if Rai hadn’t been there to pick up the pieces last night.

Before I take my seat at the foot of the small table—another small detail that irks me—I always am placed at the _head_ of the table in my castle, since I’m the _prince_ , after all, I greet him with a warm friendly smile. I’m sure my nerves are showing, even in my expression in my greeting.

“Aren’t you pretty as a picture this morning—simply glowing?” Bardo says, returning my smile.

“Thank you very much,” I say, lowering my eyes to my feet. I move to his side of the table to serve him some tea. “Please, enjoy our local tea—it’s a specialty of our region. I trust you’ve slept well? Do you need anything to make your stay more comfortable?”

“By the look of it, I’d like whatever _you’ve_ been having,” Bardo says, and I feel his hand, lightly brush my backside, just beneath my tail and wandering down my thighs. At the moment, I’m very thankful my wounds were so carefully treated since this would be incredibly painful otherwise. As it is, it only tingles slightly—the salve that has been applied has a numbing effect, which is great. But the touch makes me uncomfortable, here in public. “I was expecting you to be quite out of sorts after the Meigi got his hands on you. Were you able to enchant him? Although—where is he?”

“Ah,” I say, still flushing at his touch, unsure if I am permitted to flinch away. I do need to eat my breakfast, and Bardo is definitely noticing my blush, and he smiles a little. “There was a mix-up with the Meigi Tougas. The one at the end, Nano, is the true prince. The other one, Sh-” I realize I cannot even bring myself to say his name, “the other one was an imposter. He will be punished for taking advantage.”

Bardo looks at me with kind eyes.

“He seemed to have it out for you from the very beginning, little one. He knew he had no chance against the Setsuran, so he sabotaged your song in the arena, didn’t he?”

I gasp, just as I am taking my seat—which I do gingerly. I didn’t think anyone else could tell. I look up to meet his gaze.

“I saw how roughly he handled you. You are a precious Sanga. _No_ _one_ should handle you that way. I’m surprised your parents didn’t intervene. This entire process seems a little outdated and barbaric, in my mind.”

I’m rather surprised to hear him say these words, and a small sound comes from my throat. 

“From what I understand, you are kept in the dark—completely celibate—which you confirmed to me the other day when you asked if Tougas were required to keep themselves pure. Do you remember?”

I blush again and try to croak out a tiny “Yes” in response. 

“Well, we do have Sangas in the kingdom of Ransen, and they are allowed to choose their own partners. No one selects for them. Perhaps their magic is ‘diluted,’ as you say since they are not required to keep themselves pure, but we have awfully strong Touga and Sanga pairings there, too. In some cases, siblings or cousins pair up, and of course, they do not have a physical relationship with each other. But they are permitted to marry outside of their relationship. It’s expected.”

“I see,” I answer. Is Sisa’s heritage simply an old tradition, I wonder? Meaningless? 

“However, when the Lord of Ransen heard you were available, the possibility of making an alliance with Sisa was an opportunity Ransen could not pass up. So he held a great competition to find the strongest Touga contender. I was a trainer for years, never having found a Sanga I meshed with, and I thought, why not? I’m so glad I came, even if you don’t choose me.”

“Why?” I ask. 

“I could feel the power of your song in the arena. I felt it when you sang for the silver cat. I felt that you were about to sing for the Meigi when he stopped you—choking you with that ridiculous collar till you passed out. I also heard you sing twice last night in the castle—from two different rooms. Very different songs than what I heard in the battlefield. And I would very much like to hear that last song I heard.”

“That last song?” I echo without thinking. I can’t remember what he is talking about at first. 

“Your melody echoes in the hearts of Tougas, you see—especially experienced ones. I wouldn’t have expected it to since I’ve never paired with you nor any other Sanga. But I can hear you wherever you are. And I can hear the meaning behind your song. Do you remember the last song you sang? I can guarantee you were most likely _not_ with the Meigi.” 

“I _did_ sing for him,” I say. And then I freeze, my fork, holding a bite of the pancakes that have been served for breakfast, along with freshly sliced fruits and preserves, honey and syrup, and a little whipped cream, stopping just before it gets to my mouth. I remember my last song. It was to Rai, during sex. And it was more than lewd. “Oh, my gods. You heard _that_ song?” 

“Do you have a lover, little one?” Bardo asks. “Is that why you seem so disinterested in this process?”

“N-no,” I protest, and I stare down at my food. “I am not allowed such a thing here.” 

“I wouldn’t tell anyone. It is only natural for a boy of your age to fall in love. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Bardo says kindly. He takes a sip of his tea and looks at my plate, which is about half finished.

I set my fork aside.

“I don’t wish to talk about this here.” It is certainly not a topic for breakfast discussion.

“And yet, before I pair with you in the arena, there are some things I’d like to know,” Bardo says seriously. “Why don’t we take a short walk in your beautiful gardens? I’d love it if you’d show me around. Have you had enough to eat? You really should replenish your energy after the way you’ve been expending it.”

I look up at his tone, which is slightly teasing again. He is wearing that familiar smirk, and his black beard is nicely trimmed and shining. Though he is older, he is an attractive cat. I notice his ears are shaped like Rai’s—rounded rather than pointed like mine, and small for his head—and he has a long tail—much longer than mine, also like Rai’s.

I finish my tea and ask, “Are you originally from Ransen?” 

“I’m not. I moved there when I was a teenager, and it became my adopted kingdom. I serve the Lord himself, assist him in training Tougas there.”

“Where are you from originally?” I ask. 

“You can’t tell just by looking?” Bardo asks, smirking again. 

“I’ve never been outside of Sisa,” I say. “I knew there were other breeds of cats, but I didn’t know what variety or how much they differed from me.” 

“I’m teasing you, little prince,” he says softly. “I’m originally from Setsura.”

Like Rai, I think. I’m sure he doesn’t know Rai, though. Rai is probably eighteen or nineteen, I think.

“How old are you?” I ask boldly. My question earns me a loud laugh.

“Ha! How old do I look?”

“Well, I think you must be around ten years older than me,” I say, “and I am sixteen.” 

“Not a bad guess, little one. I’m 25. Is that too old for your taste?” Another smirk lights up his face, and I feel flustered.

“Um...” 

“I’m only teasing you. I love to see those pretty oversized ears of yours turn pink,” Bardo admits. “Come. Show me where you like to walk in the gardens, and we can talk more openly.” 

Coming to my side of the table, he brushes my ears gently, and then offers his arm, leading me out of the room. I lead him into the garden, onto the path that leads to my own private gardens, where I like to wander. There are kuim trees there, which is one of the reasons I enjoy this path so much. Also, it is quiet—no one bothers me here.

However, I am slightly afraid of what he will ask me. 

“So—if you do not have a lover, may I assume you were with the Setsuran Touga last night?” Bardo asks. His voice is soft and tender—he doesn’t sound jealous or angry. I’m slightly confused about why he is asking. There is a small pause while I think of an answer, and Bardo asks another question, even more softly. “Did something happen with Shiki? He hurt you, didn’t he?” 

Tears fill my eyes and overflow almost immediately.

“I don’t want to waste any more tears on him than I already have!” I sob almost desperately, pulling away from Bardo and walking ahead slightly. “He sabotaged my performance in the arena so he would have an excuse to treat me poorly in the bedchamber. He beat me viciously—and I didn’t know my body would—I didn’t know that I could respond... like _that_ to a paddling! It hurt, yet I—my body—it betrayed me! He seemed to know as if he planned it—and he punished me even more harshly for it, even though I couldn’t help myself!”

“Ah, you poor thing! This entire ceremony is brutal for you. You have been sheltered all your life, forbidden, I suppose, to touch even your own body, and now—you are supposed to please all of these strangers, submitting to them—without knowing what to expect? Your parents didn’t even explain anything to you, did they?”

I shake my head, tears still falling. 

“I feel like a piece of prime meat up for auction—everyone taking a sample! Even when I do my best, it’s not good enough! I tried to please Sh-, um, the Meigi, but I couldn’t. He was determined to do things _his_ way. He left me with welts and bruises.” 

“Oh, my gods,” Bardo takes me into his arms—and his embrace feels warm. He smells good, too—like cinnamon, suede, and unsmoked tobacco—like warmth. It’s comforting. “I’m so sorry. Did he take you against your will?”

“I, um, tricked him,” I say. “He forced himself into my mouth, and I sang for him—he was so distracted by the power of my song that he came before he could rape me. And my parents discovered his deceit before he could try again.”

“There’s a smart kitten,” Bardo keeps me in my arms, brushing his hands over my ears and hair. “My gods, your fur is so full and plush, even though it’s short. You’re so soft. And you ended up spending the night with Rai?”

“He cared for my wounds, while my parents dealt with the Meigi problem.” 

“I see,” Bardo says. “And all he did was care for your wounds—and you sang him that song?”

“Um, not exactly,” I admit. I pull away from Bardo’s embrace and we walk a little more. I find my favorite bench and take a seat. The large tiger cat sits next to me, crossing his legs so he can look at me while I talk. His funny little ears are aimed right at me, and I can’t help thinking of Rai when I see them. “So—my first night, Rai said he didn’t want to force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. We did... other things. And then, when I was with... the Meigi, I realized that was a mistake. I should have let Rai do... everything. He would be the most gentle, I think.” 

“You really didn’t know what to expect in the bedroom, did you?” 

“Only from what I heard from other Sangas! And they all said it was excruciating! I was so _afraid_. I didn’t even know I was required to do this ceremony until you had already arrived. It had been planned since my birth—it’s the fate of all princes of Sisa. But we as not permitted to be naked—not even my staff sees me nude. I bathe alone. I am usually dressed in my underclothing before they arrive to help me dress. And I am certainly discouraged from touching myself.” 

“Why on earth?” Bardo is amazed. “That cannot be healthy for a boy your age! If you’re not allowed to explore your sexuality, how will you know what feels good, and what you like?” 

“It doesn’t matter what _I_ like,” I say. “In the bedroom, my purpose is to serve the _Touga_. When I was young, an older Sanga was caught taking too long in the shower, and he was whipped so severely he couldn’t walk for several days. I told myself I would never do such a thing.” 

“Gods,” Bardo says, “that is so extreme. And brutal. Your body must be hungry for touch of any kind. It’s no wonder you responded the way you did, even to violence. It’s only natural. And you were probably terribly confused if the night before was tender and loving.”

I look up at Bardo with tears in my eyes, and he looks earnest. He is actually _kind_.

“Listen, Konoe. It isn’t my intention to take advantage of you here. I’m here on behalf of my kingdom. I heard you sing for the silver cat, and I’m well aware that your choice is most likely already made. Do not worry about it. Please, spend your time with me as a fun, learning experience. Do not be concerned about me forcing myself on you. I am not into that—unless it’s what my partner desires.” 

“Wait—What?” I’m confused. Who would want that??

“Oh, yes. Some partners enjoy giving up control in the bedroom—it frees them from making any decisions. It allows them to revel in the experience and pleasure, away from guilt and shame. When you get a little older, you might enjoy that. We call it consensual non-consent. But I think it’s too soon for you to try it. I just want you to experience touch and lovemaking in a way that feels good and safe, all right?”

“Um, okay,” I say. And I sigh a heavy breath of relief, though I blush at the mention of lovemaking.

“In return, if you would do your best for me in the arena, I think that would be great. I’d love to experience even a fraction of the power I saw you lend to the silver cat. And then—we’d have a bond in the bedroom, too.” 

“So—you’re not upset if I’ve already made my choice?” 

“Honey, I heard you sing for him. You sounded as if you’d been paired for years. It was odd—I’d never seen anything like it. I will be happy to get a taste. And in return, I will teach you as much as I can about sex. And I have some experience.” He smirks again.

“Are you going to want to actually, um, you know, um... have sex?” I ask, looking down.

“Of course. But I promise you will, too. And I won’t do anything against your will. All right? I will be gentle with you. This little body of yours has been longing for attention—and the proper kind of attention. I will lavish you with care and love.”

“Why are you being so kind to me?” I ask suddenly. “You have the right to do anything you want to me. Why would you be kind? Why not just strip me bare and take me violently?”

“Well, when you say it like that, it certainly sounds like a tempting offer. However, I’d only do that if it’s what you wanted. I think sex is much better when both parties enjoy it. And I want to hear that song you sang for the silver cat.”

“Okay,” I say softly. I’m still confused, but I feel a large hand taking both of mine in his. Bardo is kneeling before me. He kisses the back of both my hands and my fingers—and his touch is surprisingly gentle. It almost takes my breath away.

“You are a beautiful creature—an enchanting, magical kitten, Konoe. I consider myself lucky to spend today and tonight in your company. Allow me to spoil you a little—let me show you how wonderful loving touch can be.”

I blush again, completely embarrassed. I have no choice in this matter, of course. But this is the best case scenario. 

“Shall we head to the arena?” I ask.

“Do you trust me?” Bardo asks. 

I’m glad we had this talk. If he was telling the truth, anyway. 

“Yes. I do.” I lead the way and he takes my hand, following me down to the changing rooms. I don’t feel nervous about being able to sing for this cat. He’s still a stranger, but a trustworthy one.


	13. Ransen v. Sisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Prince Konoe is nervous about getting back into the arena again, after his experience with Shiki, but it goes much better than he expects--although very different from his experience with Rai.
> 
> Afterward, however, it does NOT go as he hopes. And what Bardo has said--and how he has assured him in the garden--is not at ALL what Konoe expects.
> 
> Trigger warning: non-consensual sex, i.e. rape due to physical incapacitation. If this is not your thing, feel free to skip this chapter. Also, there may be a major character death in this chapter. (Holy shit--did she really?)
> 
> Feel free to skip to the summary if this frightens you. I've made some chapter notes at the end.

We prepare for battle—well, all I have to do is remove my vest—in the changing area. I keep my eyes lowered while Bardo is changing for the sake of his privacy. However, his chuckling makes me look up.

“What?” I ask, wondering if I’ve done something wrong.

“You’re being shy on my behalf?” Bardo asks, grinning. “How awfully innocent of you.”

Realizing that I will most likely see him naked after dinner this evening, I don’t really appreciate his teasing, but there isn’t much I can do. I drink a little water before we walk out into the arena and take a few deep breaths. My last experience in the arena wasn’t a positive one, and I’m a little nervous.

“I can see why the Meigi was tempted to collar you,” Bardo says lightly, brushing my ears and making me uncomfortable. “It was an awfully adorable look on you.” I feel myself blushing—and upset that he is reading my thoughts. “Listen, you have nothing to worry about. Just do your best and whatever happens, happens.” That does settle me a little, I suppose.

It takes a while to get in sync with the tiger cat’s fighting style. Our first two rounds don’t go smoothly, but the third battle is better. While I _feel_ a connection to him, I _feel_ a bond, when I try sending my thoughts to him he doesn’t respond. I don’t know if he can’t hear me because our bond isn’t strong enough; but in any case, it is exhausting—much more exhausting than fighting alongside Rai. It’s slightly unnerving, since I can still feel the hits to his body, and I can sense his movement, but I can’t quite connect in the same way I could with Rai. I’m finding myself out of breath and wobbling by the end of our fourth round, and Papa stops us.  

“That was impressive,” he says. “Bardo, your fighting style is quite unique—very powerful. I will have to stop it here, however, as our son is quite exhausted. Konoe, well done.”

“Might I see to his care?” Bardo asks—he’s scooped me up in his arms already—my body now paralyzed with exhaustion. I notice he also has a rather strong and warm scent—a dark musk that slowly wraps up my body like a blanket, mixed with the smoky fragrance of tobacco. 

“Please do. We shall see you at dinner.”

However, I find it strange when Bardo takes me to his chambers—not to my own. 

“Now, I finally have you to myself.” He sets me down on a chair in his room and stokes the flames in the fireplace. I dislike fire, of course, but I keep my thoughts to myself. I can’t move. I feel very vulnerable. I’m not sure I like this level of vulnerability with someone I am unable to read. “Do you always become completely unable to care for yourself after singing?”

“Not usually,” I say, almost defensively. “This is a new experience for me and seems to be caused by pairing with a Touga. I think it’s pairing with a fighter that is exhausting when I'm trying to forge a bond.”

“Your song felt amazing and powerful,” Bardo says, and he places a small basin of water close to the fire to heat it up. “You really seemed to work up a sweat. Let me wipe your body down.”

“Oh—you don’t have to,” I protest slightly—and nervously. 

“But I _want_ to—very much,” Bardo murmurs, slipping off my boots, one after the other, touching my calves carefully as he does so. “Wow—you’re _so_ relaxed right now—it’s incredible.”

“Relaxed isn’t quite the right word,” I say, trying to keep the mood light. “Paralyzed is more like it. I literally cannot move.”

“Hmm. Is that so?” He reaches up to unbutton my blouse and slips it from my body, letting his fingers trail on my chest as they move against my skin. It tickles, but I can’t move away. “I mean, I saw you collapse that first day, but I had no idea you were _this_ defenseless.”

The way he is talking now makes me think he has something else in mind, other than my “care,” and I start to get nervous, my tail bristling and my ears perking up.

“Wait—didn’t you say you wouldn’t do anything against my will?” I try hard to keep the desperation from my voice.

“Did I say that?” Bardo grins up at me—the same teasing grin he’s been wearing the entire time since I’ve met him. It’s even more unnerving seeing it now. “I thought I said I’d make you _want_ it.”

“Well, I _don’t_ want it!” I say, but I can’t move away from him.

“I think you perhaps don’t know exactly what you want. How could you possibly? You’re only sixteen. Isn’t it my job to care for you and yours to submit?”

A stunted, discouraged groan drips from my lips. I don't know what to say. I can't talk my way out of this, and I'm truly frightened. 

“Oh, I picked up on your unwillingness, as well as your father’s persuasive abilities, the first time I saw you. I _could_ get him involved if you’re unwilling to submit, I suppose.” That teasing tone hasn’t left his voice, and I’m _really_ afraid now.

“Please— _please_ don’t,” I whisper. But I don’t want to connect with him sexually right now. I can’t even move! “This isn’t what you said—”

“Just relax, little Sanga. You’re going to be fine. Relaxing is the best way to enjoy these activities, at least on your end. I promise. You have sensation, obviously. I won’t hurt you.” 

“B-but wouldn’t you rather have a willing p-partner?”

“If I waited, would I _get_ a willing partner?” Bardo asks, taking his eyes off my chest and looking at my face directly.

“O-of c-course,” I stammer, but he knows I’m lying—especially now. 

“I think if I show you what I mean—what pleasures lie in wait for you—you will thank me later.” 

“ _Please_!” I insist. “N-not like this!”

But my belt is quickly stripped from my waist, my breeches easily pulled off my hips, and he moves me to the bed in just my underwear. First, he wipes the front of my body down with several hot cloths, rinsing them repeatedly in water from the basin over the fire. Honestly, it feels quite good, but I’m so terrified that I am having trouble enjoying it. And tears are now leaking from my eyes. 

“Ah, tears? The tears of a royal Sanga? I was hoping you’d save them for your climax—while you were in my chambers, at least,” his deep voice purrs slightly, and he is certainly enjoying himself. “Now, let’s get your back, too.” 

He turns me to my stomach and wipes down my arms and shoulders, my back, my legs, even my feet—and then I feel him pulling at the waistband of my underwear. I feel a little sick. Only my tail and ears can move—and my ears droop miserably and my tail lashes wildly.

I hear a sharp intake of breath when he sees the wounds on my body, as he pulls off my underwear. 

“ _This_ is from the Meigi?” His voice growls. “How dare he treat your body so disrespectfully, after humiliating you in the arena! Was this his goal all along? You poor kitten—no wonder you’re afraid. I will be much more gentle.”

A loud sob hitches in my chest.

“Please, don’t hurt me. You don't need to do this. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” Maybe chanting it like a mantra will help him understand my fear and desperation.

“I’m _not_ going to hurt you,” Bardo whispers. I feel something cold touching the welted skin—a cream? He spreads it on me like butter, and it soothes me—just a little. I get a slight uplift in my chest, hoping that maybe he will let me off easy. 

But his touch lingers a little too long at the crease between my buttocks and my thighs, and his fingers slip between my legs, the other hand stroking through the fur of my tail, making me bristle. Certainly, he makes my body respond, but I’m sure I do _not_ want this—not now—not while I’m so powerless!

“Young one, part of being a Sanga is relying on your Touga to care for you—even and especially when you are at your most helpless. And so I am here now, asking you to submit yourself to me, and _fully_. I want to care for your every need while you are unable to do so.”

Damn it! He knows if he phrases it like that, I’m not _allowed_ to refuse. I don’t have to _like_ it—but I’ve learned my lesson with the Meigi. The sooner I submit, the sooner it will be over.

“I’m... at your disposal,” I mutter into the mattress, gritting my teeth.

I hear a loud laugh behind me, and my chin is turned roughly to the side. His amber gaze sparkles with delight. Does he find this amusing? Does he find the act amusing and fun? My current state—is  _amusing_?

“That sounded neither sincere nor submissive. In fact, if I’d bet if you weren’t paralyzed, I think you’d scratch my eyes out right now,” his warm eyes tease me, his voice light and friendly, like this is some kind of game. I’m scared out of my mind, and my skin is crawling. “I want to hear you _really_ submit to me—and I want to hear you sing as you did for my former student.”

“Former student?” I hear my voice echo, and it’s quivering with fear.

“Yes. I taught that Setsuran cat when he was young. He doesn't have anything I don’t. So look at me, now, and assure me you submit.”

I taste the revulsion rising in my throat, but I’m scared of what will happen if I don’t do as he asks. I blink away the tears in my eyes—once, then twice—and take a deep, shivering breath, my tail still quivering.

“Is this really what you want?” Fresh tears are filling my eyes, in spite of my efforts to control myself.

“It is. I can’t seem to resist you when you’re in such a vulnerable state. Surely, Rai-chan was the same?”

He wasn't, and keep him out of this! Don’t even say his name!

“I will submit to anything you require—and I will do my best for you as I did on the battlefield—although...” I drop my gaze, letting my tears spill. 

“What, precious kitten?”

“I was hoping to be a more active participant.” The lie to save my own skin from impending horror slides from my lips like honey, much easier than I expect. I lift my eyes up to that face—still smiling down at me so gently. Maybe he thinks this is what I want, or what is best for me? Doesn’t he realize how horrible this feels?

“Oh, well, sweetheart, we have all night together. I’m sure you’ll regain mobility soon enough. Won’t you? You can show me your active participation at that point.”

I swallow my fear, wondering exactly what I’ve gotten myself into—have I just dug myself a deeper grave? 

“Please—don’t hurt me,” I plead again, desperation in my voice.

“Now, now, kitten—didn’t I already tell you I wouldn’t? I’d tell you to relax, but you’re nearly comatose as is. I mean—just look at you.” His voice is covered with lust. It disgusts me! 

He pulls my legs down to the foot of the bed, where they fall limply, leaving me feeling terribly exposed and even more helpless. My arms follow my body, spreading open on the bed, and I can’t move a muscle. I feel something wet and cold slide inside me, and I gasp in terror.

“I couldn’t ask for much less resistance from you. You young male kittens tend to be slightly squeamish when you first get started sexually—especially before your first heat, which it feels like you are. This way, I get you warm and willing without needing too much prep.”

“Wait—um, please!” I cry—as desperately as I can. “Please—you will _hurt_ me!”

“I won’t,” Bardo whispers low in my ear, giving me a lick. “And I didn’t say, ‘ _no_ prep’—just not _much_. Relax and enjoy yourself, little one.”

I feel a second finger sliding inside me, stretching me open, teasing me apart—particularly working my entrance before pressing inside—and it feels so weird, so intrusive, and so very, very wrong—and there is nothing I can do! 

“You’re soft and smooth inside—just like your fur,” he whispers, and he strokes my tail in time with the hand inside my ass. I am beyond disgusted—but my tail, being trapped by that strong hand, responds instantly to his touch. 

I remember my father’s words, and I try my best to submit, suppressing my tears, suppressing my feelings of shame, shoving down my feelings of violation and betrayal—for that is what this experience feels like— _betrayal_ —especially after what he told me in the garden. He promised to treat me well, and perhaps, this _is_ , at least compared to what the Meigi did to me.

Perhaps Rai did indeed spoil me. So I try to imagine how it would feel if I were unable to move and if _Rai_ were touching me this way—because I wanted him to—or even if _he_ wanted to. If this is what _he_ wanted to do with me, would I allow it? Would I submit to it?

And my lower half slowly floods with heat—thinking of the silver cat with working his fingers inside me and his hand massaging my tail—no, he would groom it, as well.

“Groom me,” I whisper, almost too softly to be heard.

“Eh?” Bardo’s voice comes from behind me.

“My tail—the tip of my tail—groom me. If it pleases you,” I beg shamelessly—feeling my ears grow hot.

“Ah—so you have already found a preference, have you?” But he obliges, sounding pleased, and even more heat floods through me—my fantasy complete. I realize there are sounds coming from my mouth, and I can’t turn my head to suppress them, so they fill up the room, coloring it with an even heavier scent of sex and lust. “Gods—your voice—let me hear your voice.”

Hearing his voice isn’t doing it for me—not at all—but I can ignore it long enough to concentrate on the sensations and my fantasies. I close my eyes, and much too soon I feel him pull his fingers from inside me.

He takes his hand from my tail as well, which relaxes after waving wantonly for a few moments—until I feel his hands pressing on my hips, and I feel him lining something hot up behind me.

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we? I want to hear you sing.” 

He’s easily as big as Rai—at least in girth—and he hasn’t prepared me nearly enough, I am afraid, but I am very relaxed, and I cannot move even an inch. I feel like I am being torn open—but I would suffer this for the silver cat, so I try to keep his face in the front of my mind.

 _He_ is why I am here— _he_ is what I am getting out of this. As fucked up as a tradition as this is, I’m earning a place by Rai’s side by tolerating this treatment, by submitting myself to it. At the end of the week, I will be allowed to choose, sending these other assholes home, never to see them again.

Though as Bardo is pressing inside me, causing me pain, I have to wonder, does he _really_ believe I would _ever_ choose a Touga who would treat me this way?

Perhaps not—and perhaps he realizes his chances are already shot, just like the Meigi did. Only he is playing by the rules, as brutal as they are.

I cry out several times—in pain—as he advances, and he plays with my tail and soothes me, licking my shoulder, my ears, stroking my hair, telling me I am beautiful—and I feel him purring. He isn’t being deliberately cruel—so exactly what is the _meaning_ of this? I don’t understand his intentions at all.

I desperately try to feel our bond—the one we had—the one I tried so desperately to form—while we were in the arena.

_Please be gentle with me. Please don’t hurt me like this. Please, please, please._

I hear nothing in response—utter _silence_. Why? I don’t understand. Is it a failing on my part? 

Finally, I hear a satisfied sigh behind me, and his body rests on the backs of my thighs and my ass heavily. He must be inside me now—that didn’t take as long as I was expecting. It still hurts—and it hurts, even more, when he rocks his hips forward.

I cry out—with my voice and in my head— _please—_ begging with everything I have, and my ear is bitten lightly.

“That’s _enough_ from you, now,” Bardo whispers. “I’m not doing anything that hasn’t already been done to you and I’m not taking anything I haven’t earned. So stop your senseless begging. Just enjoy the ride—you will adjust soon enough.”

I gasp again—in shock—he can _hear_ me? Why doesn’t he answer? Why can’t I hear him? Is he deliberately ignoring my bond? Ignoring my attempt to connect? Refusing my attempts at intimacy?

_What the fuck?!_

Why, then, do _I_ have to submit when _he_ can get off ignoring my attempts to bond? What right does _he_ have to expect me to do my best when _he_ isn’t reciprocating my efforts? He can _rape_ me—and I have to _take_ it—though he is doing _nothing_ to earn this privilege? Isn’t he supposed to _try_ to connect with me as well? We are supposed to share a _bond_ as Touga and Sanga!

I take a deep breath—feeling him move when I do—and he sighs a little—I know he’d get more pleasure if I were an active participant. I may be naive and new at this, but I’ve had an excellent teacher— _much_ better than he is if he thinks fucking a hole is better than an active person! But no. I _have_ to collect myself. I reach out across that bond I worked so hard to build in the arena—this time, _really_ feeling it in my mind—I imagine the bond as fingers, stroking gently, caressing Bardo’s mind as I speak—caressing the mind of the man who is raping me. I can’t think about it too much or I will be sick.

 _Why don’t you respond to me? This will heighten both my pleasure and yours—it’s a bond unique to a Touga and Sanga who have paired in battle, an intimacy I want to experience—with you._  

It’s very hard to deceive someone using this kind of bond—I could never do it if my body were functioning normally.I make sure to add layers of truth and open questions to my lie.

_I’ve worked so hard to form this bridge to you. Is it impossible for you to respond? Do you not know how? Have I displeased you in some way? I’m doing my utmost to please you, my Touga. Reach out to me—connect with me._

My ear is nipped again—I'm bitten harder than before—and since I cannot move or protect myself, it’s rather frightening. I realize he certainly is in the position to hurt me more physically than he already is. But I don’t stop.

_I’m at your mercy—I’m at my most vulnerable. I trust you—with my body, with my needs—just as you promised me you’d care for me in the garden this morning. You reassured me, you soothed me, you told me not to worry. There is so little I can do in return for you. But this—this, I can do. If you will respond, I will see through your eyes. I will even experience your pleasure if you open your heart and soul to me._

The gentle rocking of Bardo’s hips becomes more violent. He starts pulling his hips out of me and snapping them against me—causing pain each time, making my body suffer—and I bite my lip to avoid crying out. Still, each time he thrusts inside, a pained grunt leaks from my mouth. I know he is trying to silence me, but I refuse—I will _not_ submit. He hasn’t given himself to me, so why should I submit? I reach even deeper—feeling my power as a Sanga awaken—and my body starts to vibrate in song. I’m still exhausted from our pairing earlier, but damn it! I’m going to _make_ him _see_ me, make him _hear_ me.

_Bardo—_

The vibrations in my body start to change into something recognizable as a song, the rhythm is the beat of my heart, the melody skates across my skin, almost burning me, making my hair stand upright in its wake.

_Bardo—answer me. I’m giving all I have for you—all I am is yours. Do with me as you see fit. Now—come, let me see your innermost self._

This is a painful song to sing—because I am so exhausted from battle—but I _have_ to do this and I _will_ see it through till the end. The light that flows from my body reaches out from my fingers, and I hear Bardo cry out when he is hit with the power of the melody—he is terribly close to coming—overwhelmed by my power, I think, just like Shiki was. I use those tendrils of light as extensions of my fingers that can go where I cannot, and I close my eyes and concentrate.

_Tiger cat Touga warrior—reveal yourself to me._

Letting my fingers of light comb through his hair, I suddenly delve inside his head—combing through his thoughts. 

_It’s cruel to hide yourself from me._

I whisper the words softly across the bridge of our minds. I can suddenly see myself through his eyes—a helpless, vulnerable creature, lying before him on the bed on my stomach, rather sexy and irresistible in my powerlessness—the exact  _same_ thoughts the Meigi had. It infuriates me!

I try to stay calm. Becoming enraged won’t help me to hide my feelings. It’s as though he sees me as a child, helpless, yet with a dangerous weapon of some kind. He actually feared me in the arena, once he felt my power. He _feared_ me. _That_ is why he is reluctant to bond with me. And he is doing this to my body right now to _put me in my place_ —to make sure I do not step out of line. He is violating me now, taking advantage of me, raping me, because he  _fears_ me!

_Do you fear me? Do you fear the Sanga who submitted to your every wish and whim? The one you manipulated to your own ends? Just how much of a coward are you?_

It slips from my mind without control, but I cannot control my thoughts. My anger and rage have overtaken me—I will not have a repeat of what the Meigi Touga did to me! That is what they both were— _cowards_!

“How dare you! Don’t you understand the position you’re in right now? You’re completely at my mercy!” His deep voice growls rather breathlessly behind me, but I no longer feel at his mercy, though he grabs my hair harshly, craning my neck back. I still can’t move my body, but I don't feel anything under the influence of my song.

 _And yet you had to wait till I was physically completely powerless and vulnerable to take advantage of me? You were afraid of what? I might bite you? I might not submit? What exactly were you afraid of? You thought I might stand a chance against you if I could control my body? Fucking coward!_  

“Shut up, you little brat! And get out of my head!” His hips snap up against mine, completely unresisting against the bed, the bedframe shaking beneath us, the headboard slamming against the wall.

_Or what? You will beat me as the Meigi did? Is that what you want? I can’t resist, so imagine—I would just lie here and take whatever punishment you see fit—just like I’m taking everything your body is giving me now!_

His hands grip my hips even tighter. I’m sure they will leave bruises—possibly even his fingerprints will show up on the pale skin later.

_Do you feel powerful, using your brute strength on a kitten a quarter of your size? Especially when I can’t even move to defend myself? Is that how you see strength?_

I push behind the strength of my song and grip tightly with my tendrils—refusing to release Bardo’s mind from my grasp. He is abusing my body at this point, but I feel _nothing_ —my light is so strong and so powerful, and so filled with rage—like a bright yellow flame is pouring from the core of my body through my fingers and directly into his brain.

I hear his body reaching its limit—close to ecstasy—and he suddenly jerks. I feel him release into me—and at the same time, he stops moving altogether, probably because the pressure I put behind the power of my song was too great.

His body drops down heavily on top of me, and I get the wind knocked out of me. I even lose consciousness for a while—and I am so exhausted I can barely breathe. 

I wake to a ruckus outside the door. I also am suffering from strange amnesia—I don’t know where I am or what has just been done to me. I feel a wet sticky sensation between my thighs, terrible, throbbing pain in my ribs, and I still can’t move.

I can hear the welcome timbre of my silver cat outside the door. He is arguing with someone.

“It was _distress_! I know it was a call of distress! I've heard it before when he was with the Meigi, and it called me then, too. It’s been silent too long! You _must_ open the door! He’s your _son_!”

Is Rai arguing with my father? I don’t know where I am—but I know need help.

“Help me, please!” I cry, trying to get my face free from the mattress. There is a massive object pressing me against the bed. “Please!” I hear the door open, footsteps rushing inside.

“Konoe!” Dad is at my side, his red hair flying behind him with Papa on his heels. His face is pale and frightened. “Leaks—this is... What _is_ this? What has happened? Sweet Ribika! Is he even breathing?”

I _am_ breathing, but barely, so I have no idea what is happening here, what they are talking about.

“Where am I? What has happened? I can’t breathe—please,” I wheeze.

“He’s being crushed!” It’s Rai’s voice again, growling with rage and fury. “He was still recovering from the fight in the arena—he couldn’t even _move_! And this—”

“Not another word,” Dad snaps at Rai. The ungodly weight is lifted slowly and evenly from my body—probably Papa’s magic—and I _still_ cannot move. “Konoe. Are you all right?”

“Dad! Papa!” I burst into tears, and every breath and every sob hurts. 

“Let me examine him quickly—and then you must take him away from here,” Papa says—but I don’t know who he is talking about. Me? Take me out of here? He presses against my lower back and hips—I am very naked here—I am just now noticing. Where are my clothes? “Konoe, wiggle your toes for me. And your fingers now. Good boy.” Then, he presses against each of my ribs, and when he hits the sore one, I cry out and hear a low growl. “I’m sorry, honey.” There is a marginally sore spot on the other side, too. But my neck is fine.

“Do you know how to treat a broken rib? Do you have any of that pain relief potion left? Good, good. I will come back and heal him as much as I can, as soon as I am finished here. This is a much more urgent matter.”

“Urgent? It looks like things here are already pretty much decided.”

“ _Nothing_ is set in stone when you are a sorcerer, young one. Don’t you take that tone with me.”

“Are you going to heal your son just to make him resume activities without rest tomorrow?” Rai growls. “I mean no disrespect—but he is in no condition to fight!” 

“We _know_ what is best for our son,” Dad says, as I feel something stroking my ears. 

“You must get him out of here,” Leaks speaks sharply. “He should _not_ see this. Do not speak of it. Let the amnesia serve its purpose. I will see what I can do.” 

Familiar large hands embrace my now cool skin.

“I’m wrapping you in a blanket to keep your injuries stable,” Rai explains plainly. “It's going to hurt. Bear with it.”

When he rolls the blanket around me, it’s fine, but when my body is turned, I scream in pain.

“I’m so sorry,” Rai whispers in my ear. “I will treat you in your chambers.”

Lifting me up is much easier now, with the blanket tight around my chest, acting as a splint. Rai carries me carefully back to my chambers, keeping me from moving.

The moment we get back to my room, he leans me up against the pillows of my own bed and feeds me some of that medicine. It works right away, making my pain dim, my brain fuzzy, and makes me feel floaty. 

“What happened?” I ask. I know my father asked him not to tell me, but I feel terribly uneasy.

I’m laid down on the bed, and my ribs are wrapped properly this time. It’s still painful—but why can’t I remember anything!

“What was the last thing you remember?” Rai asks, propping my head up to give me some water. He starts cleaning up my body, very gently.

“Fighting in the arena—with Bardo.” I get a funny feeling in my stomach when I say his name.

“And then?”

“He took me to his chambers for... some care.” My voice gets very quiet. 

“And then?”

“I cannot remember,” I say, but for some reason, tears start flowing from my eyes.

“A part of you definitely remembers. After his song, a young Sanga is at his weakest. He cannot move, he cannot walk, he cannot clean up his wounds. Did the tiger help you?”

“I-I don’t know,” I repeat, somewhat baffled and confused by my tears. 

“You were naked when we entered. Did he remove your clothes?”

“He did,” I say quietly. “He said he would care for me as a Touga should. And he wiped me down with a cloth. But then...”

“Did he take advantage of your vulnerability?”

A sob escapes my mouth—and it hurts my rib. I wince. 

“Konoe, you are safe now. He will never hurt you again. Did he hurt you?”

“Um, yes—but I don’t think that was his intent,” I explain. “I think it could have been much worse.”

I wish I could remember what happened after that—I have a blank spot in my memories there. Will I have to return to him tonight? I’m filled with fear. But—where did he go? Was that him—lying on me? Was he asleep? Did something happen to him? Did I… do something to him?

"Do not excuse his behavior. What he did to you was uncalled for. He should never have touched you while you could not defend yourself. You could not consent. He was much older than you. He knew better."

I swallow nervously, and then I stop trying to remember. I don't want to think anymore. Rai gives me the rest of the pain relief potion from last night.

“This has not been my best week,” I say wryly, “though I am very glad to have met you.”  
  
Rai smiles at me, helps me back to the mattress, and grooms my ears gently till I drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fighting in the arena goes well--but feels off for Konoe. He can feel a connection to Bardo but doesn't feel a reciprocation of the bond that he felt with Rai, which he thinks is weird. This makes singing for him harder and they only get through four rounds before his exhaustion catches up with him.
> 
> Bardo offers to care for him afterward, bringing Konoe to his room. He has been teasing him for most of the day--in the casual way he has been teasing him since they first met. However, once they get to Bardo's room, and Konoe cannot move any part of his body except for his tail and ears due to exhaustion from his song, he realizes he's in big trouble. The Ransen Touga has it in his mind to care for "all" the young Sanga's needs, demanding he "submit" to him, and threatening to get his father involved if he doesn't.
> 
> Of course, Konoe has learned his lesson from Shiki, realizing that the sooner he plays along with Bardo, the better off he will be, but he feels angry, used, and betrayed--especially after that rather deceitful discussion in the garden. But he does as Bardo asks--he doesn't have a choice--and Bardo undresses him and fucks him, without preparing him enough.
> 
> Konoe uses the mental bond he established in the arena to try to get into his head, trying to figure out what the hell went wrong and realizes that it isn't that Bardo can't hear him, it's that Bardo doesn't *want* to respond. Konoe gets really pissed--seeing that everything falls on him: he's the only one expected to perform here. He's getting raped, he's expected to submit and perform appropriately in the arena, is threatened if he doesn't do exactly as he's supposed to, and he uses the bond he has to "invade" Bardo's thoughts--which he is able to do since his body is currently incapacitated.
> 
> Unfortunately, he discovers the reason Bardo doesn't open up to him is that he is afraid of Konoe and his power. He sees Konoe as a child with a terrifying power. And that pisses off Konoe even more, and he actually hurts Bardo with his song--but he doesn't realize that's what he does. Konoe doesn't know that he has this ability, in fact--but basically, he gives Bardo an aneurysm during sex.
> 
> And singing his song a second time--after being so physically exhausted already--exhausts him further, and makes Konoe lose consciousness. And he gets amnesia for a short period of time, waking up under the heavy weight of a now at least unconscious (if not dead) Bardo. (Yeah, I'm not sorry.)
> 
> Needless to say, his milkshake brings all the boys to the yard again, and he wakes up to an argument between Rai and his parents--and Leaks plans to see what he can do to revive Bardo (we think), and he is sent away with a really pissed-off Rai with a broken rib, and instructions not to tell him about Bardo's situation.
> 
> However, as soon as he gets back to his room, and Rai is treating him, of course, he starts remembering some stuff. Ah--the horror.
> 
> But damn it, I can only let the poor kid suffer for so long. Now, it's a matter of time before he figures out he can go after Shiki himself, I think.


	14. On the Mend and Kira v. Sisa, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe’s parents pay him a visit after a day of recovery in Rai’s care, excusing the silver cat from his duties. They inform him he will be expected to participate in the rest of the selection process starting the next day, much to the young Sanga’s dismay.
> 
> Some of Konoe’s memories of his afternoon with Bardo have returned, but he does not remember how he broke his rib, nor how the tiger was injured. Leaks, in the meantime, has been able to stop a major war by bringing the tiger back to life, although that Touga may never be able to fight again. His parents decide to keep the details from him—they don’t know for sure what happened, either, but Shui has a pretty good idea.
> 
> Given a sleeping spell and forbidden to see Rai, Konoe is put to sleep.
> 
> The next morning, his staff helps ready him, and his parents see him to breakfast. Our prince is much better, but still tender and quite nervous. However, his day goes much better than he expects.

The night and day pass in a blur. I’m given lots more medicine, and Papa comes in to treat me several times as well, waving his hands over my body to perform additional healing spells. Rai stays with me for most of that time, I think—grooming my ears when no one else is around—and I find his presence and scent soothing and wonderful.

He brings me water and food, juice, and medicine. He washes my body as well, gently cleaning my body with warm cloths when I am awake—and specifically waiting until I am conscious to touch me, except for grooming my ears. He uses a gentle voice whenever he speaks, which helps settle me, too. I am in a lot of pain at the start of the evening, even with Papa’s healing spells and potions, but once I relax, I start to feel a lot better.

I don’t remember everything that happened with Bardo—I know we fought together successfully, and I remember he promised to be gentle with me, but he tried to take advantage of me when I had no energy after the battle, and I think he refused to connect with me, though he could hear my voice. But what happened afterward? Why did he hurt me if I was already helpless? Why would he be so angry as to break my rib? Was there an accident? I ask Papa, and he won’t talk. Rai tries to find out and says that he’s found out the tiger cat is recovering, and I feel a sense of relief when I hear his words—almost like a sense of guilt has been lifted from my shoulders.

Guilt? Could _I_ have hurt _him_? How could I have hurt him, if I was incapacitated? Rai doesn’t know either, or if he does, he isn’t saying.

In the evening, I’m visited by both my parents, who ask Rai to step outside. Rai is reluctant to leave, but he obeys. I’m anxious to hear what they have to say, though groggy from pain potions, but Dad helps me sit up in bed and sits down next to me. Papa paces at the foot of my bed for a moment and then turns to face me. 

“How is your pain? Is it controlled?”

“Thank you, Papa,” I answer. “Yes, I’m much better.”

“Do you need another healing spell? Can you move your body freely?”

Walking closer to my bed, he has me slowly twist my upper body left then right, which I can do without excruciating pain. He nods with satisfaction and looks at my dad, petting my ears.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, sweetheart,” Dad says, and my ears perk up at that particular pet name. What is it they have planned for me now? “As you know, you still have several suitors remaining, and it would serve your interest to see them as soon as possible.”

A small defeated sound slips from my mouth—it’s not meant to be rebellious. It’s simply defeated. I don’t mean anything by it—I just am in pain, I have been collared, raped, beaten, whipped, birched, and had my rib broken by these suitors so far. I can’t imagine any worse treatment—nor any other ways I might be humiliated or publicly embarrassed.

“You have three suitors remaining,” Papa says.

“Wait—three?” I ask, my voice quiet. I must have miscounted in my drugged haze.

“Yes,” Dad answers. “Kira, Karou, and the real suitor from Meigi.” 

That’s right. I’d forgotten the _real_ Meigi prince. I sigh heavily, discouraged. I’m only half-way through this ordeal. But my response earns me a sharp look from Papa.

“Honey. His last suitor broke his rib. Give him a break,” Dad says sharply. “You could never understand what he is feeling right now.”

Glancing at my dad gratefully, hope fills my heart.

“This doesn’t mean you’re getting out of your duty, sweetheart,” Dad clarifies quickly. “I’m just trying to calm your father’s hot head.”

“You’ve performed very well so far,” Papa says, and his praise startles me. It’s the last thing I expect to hear from him. “It’s exactly what we’d hoped from you. Even the suitors you do not choose will leave with tales of your power, and they will return home with respect and fear of your power. This is just what we desire for Sisa. Also, I should inform you that the Ransen Touga is recovering, though it’s possible he may never fight again, unfortunately. He should be thankful that he’s leaving with his life.” 

“What exactly happened?” I ask sheepishly. “Did I hurt him? I don’t remember—and I don’t know how I could have. I was incapacitated when you found me. But I felt such a strange sense of relief when I heard he was alive.”

“Do not concern yourself about him,” Dad says, but I don’t miss the glance he exchanges with Papa. “Papa has taken care of everything. We are just here to inform you that you will be meeting with the Kiran Touga tomorrow morning.”

“So soon?” I ask. “I’m not sure I’m healed enough. My rib is still very tender—and if he, um, is rough with me—” A bolt of fear rushes through me when I think of having rough sex—no, being raped—in my current condition. I feel sickened, and tears burn the back of my eyes.

“Have no fear,” Dad assures me. “That Touga is a gentle soul. He is _eager_ for you, and both of us have spoken to him about your current weakened condition. He’s even offered to wait—” 

“Then why not take him up on the offer?!” I blurt.

“Konoe,” Papa warns, “you know we wouldn’t do that. He wants to _protect_ you, as a true Touga should for his Sanga, and you will allow him to do just that. And you will submit to him.”

Tears of frustration, fear, exhaustion, and utter defeat swell in my eyes all at once and spill down my cheeks. These are _not_ my usual manufactured tears. These are authentic. I’m discouraged, disheartened, and I feel completely misunderstood and used—and my own _parents_ are the source of my despair! 

“Please,” I beg. “May I please have another day of recovery? _Please_?” 

“Konoe, if you are truly in that much pain, I will work my magic and have you sleep the night away unconscious,” Papa says, meeting my gaze firmly. “But I can tell by your scent that isn’t the _only_ reason you desire another day, is it? The silver cat’s scent is overwhelming your own—and that is unfair to the other suitors!”

“But if the Kiran cat hurts me—”

“Konoe, we _know_ he won’t,” Dad assures me. “And we will be sure to medicate you thoroughly so you can perform without fear.”

“Wait—medicate me when?”

“Well, in the evening, and also for the arena as well, I think.” Dad looks to Papa for his approval, and he gives a short nod. 

“Why would I need to be medicated for _either_ of these activities if you’re so sure he won’t hurt me? And what if I’m so medicated I’m unable to concentrate enough to produce my song and form a bond?”

“Honey, you will be fine! You’re a professional. You can probably sing in your sleep at this point. I will use catnip or something,” Dad says. “It will be just fine. Don't worry and rest easy, okay?”

I’m still weeping when they kiss me, trying to calm me by stroking my ears and my hair. Papa waves his hands over my ribs once again, and I feel the healing spell take effect. He whispers to Dad, who nods his head.

“Just to be on the safe side, I’ll perform a sleeping spell on you now. I know you’ve been enjoying your secret time with the Setsuran, but this won’t serve you tomorrow. And it’s technically against the rules, as you are favoring him over the others. I’ll send him away and let him know why.” 

“Please don’t— _Please_ , let me at least tell him myself and thank him for his care—” the desperation in my voice is apparent, but I am at a loss as to what else to do. I don’t want Rai to think I’m rejecting him. I’ve barely spoken to him since I’ve been so out of it from the drugs. He’s been nothing but kind to me, doing things my servants should have been doing, only with extra tenderness and care. “ _Please_!”

“Sweetheart, we will see that he is properly thanked and informed,” Dad says, pressing his hand on my shoulder and preventing me from rising from bed. “Remember, you have your entire lives ahead of you if you choose him, plus you will see him at breakfast tomorrow. So just _relax._ Sleep is the best medicine.”

Papa is already performing the spell, and I am drifting into slumber against my will—struggling as I go, both my parents trying to soothe me.  

* * *

The spell works its magic, and I wake with the moon of light after a long, dreamless sleep. It feels strange to have my staff wake me, and a little unfamiliar having them help me through my morning routine. I have become used to having the silver cat assist me, tease me, kiss me, and care for me. Not having his scent around is an awful sense of loss.

My staff notices a distinct difference in my mood, which is depressed and low. I try my best to put a smile on my face since this is what is expected of me as the prince. Performing my role properly, I take special care in my dress, choosing colors such as dark blue, brown, and black since I noticed the Kiran cat favors these. He is my suitor today, so I am aiming to please him. I brush out my hair till it shines like spun gold, wearing it loose around my shoulders.

While I’m not exactly afraid, I’m anxious and nervous. Asato has always seemed kind, but very eager to spend time with me as well as overly handsy, if not outright aggressive. My parents did tell me not to worry; but they also told me if I submitted to my Touga’s wishes, everything would work out—and that hasn’t worked out for me at all so far. Of course, I’m uneasy based on my previous experiences.

Plus, I am wracked with guilt about not being able to thank Rai for his care of me yesterday and the night before. My rib is still quite painful—it’s broken, and no amount of magic will mend a broken bone in a day—but it does feel much better. I keep my back straight, try to take deep breaths and look normal, despite the pale face looking back at me in the mirror.

My parents meet me in my chambers to escort me to breakfast. I wonder if they fear I might disobey—if they think I might meet with the silver cat instead—but Rai knows to make himself scarce, thankfully. Dad is hovering, telling me how beautiful I look, how proud he is, trying to boost my confidence, while Papa waves his arms and weaves another magic spell. Secretly, I wonder what spell this one is—pain? Healing? Obedience? Compliance? Amnesia? Any will do, at this point.

Do Sangas in other countries suffer this kind of humiliation, I wonder, as I take Papa’s arm to steady myself and head to breakfast. If they don’t, are they allowed to simply choose the Touga that pulls on their heartstrings? Deciding, perhaps, _I wish to protect this cat and no other._  Such freedom seems unattainable to me—and I think this as I walk through my palace—rife with riches and treasure, sparkling with real gold paint and crystal chandeliers, authentic and expensive paintings, antique furnishings, treasures from the Two Canes, plush carpets from faraway worlds padding my feet, all of it mine, to be inherited someday. Yet I would trade it all for the freedom of a single choice.

Am I really so indulged? Guilt strikes my heart for having such wicked and selfish thoughts. How many cats live in poverty? How many cats don’t have enough to eat? How many don't have a roof over their heads? And I am griping about choice?

But that isn’t it! Really—my main problem is that I don’t like handing my person over to a stranger who can do whatever he likes to me, without consequence. It frightens me—and I have a real reason to be frightened! I have been hurt—the person who should have my best interest in mind, my Touga, cares only about his own pleasure, and nothing for my suffering, or worse, receives pleasure at the expense of my pain.

I choke back tears and my fear as we approach the doors to the dining hall, and I feel my knees weaken. I want to run away from here and escape my destiny.

“Smile, sweetheart,” Dad reminds me, before nodding to the sentries to open the gates. “You need to look your best, even when you don’t feel it.” Again—my looks—my outside—my body—it’s what is for sale today. I swallow back the bile in my throat, nauseous at the thought of food, at the thought of being appraised for my looks and charms. And so, my next trial begins. 

They whisk me to Rai’s table first, assuring I can’t even sit down at his table. I barely have a chance to bow my head and thank him for his care. Of course, he stands up to greet me—his face full of concern and something like anger as he watches my parents keep their hands on my arms, but he keeps his opinions to himself. He’s as helpless to act in this situation as I am. I hear him say that he will hear my voice if I call him by name, and both my parents look at him sharply. Is he speaking out of turn?

“I thank you kindly,” I say formally, trying to keep to the rules of decorum with my own expression—and also trying to prevent myself from rushing into his arms and doing something inappropriate. Even the slight whiff of his scent—crisp snow, sandalwood, cinnamon—makes me feel much better.

Next, Nano, the odd Meigi Touga, the true Meigi prince, is on my agenda. He pulls out my chair for me and is surprisingly slender, but well-formed, and neither tall nor broad. I hadn’t realized since his presence felt strangely unremarkable, almost... flickering when I met him before. It’s possible that some larger cats were just intimidating: the memory of what Bardo did to me while I was incapacitated has returned and of course, I remember much of the imposter’s abuse. I still feel relieved—until I get a better view of his eyes. They betray a mystery, almost as though he is not a cat. It’s natural I’d feel fear. I try not to flinch or cringe—it would be rude—but I wonder in no uncertain terms how on earth I’ll be expected to hand my body over to another complete stranger, for him to fuck or beat unconscious, whichever he prefers. 

Nano is oddly quiet, allowing me to lead the conversation. That doesn’t go well for us this morning because of my depressed mood. He ends up watching me, both of us mostly silent, him observing me closely, and while I attempt to make broken small talk, when he ends up saying something that throws me for a loop.

“The tiger injured you. Not just your body, but your heart.” 

I glance up sharply from my small plate of food that I’ve been pushing around, meeting his deep blue, no—strangely _purple_ —eyes. I’m certain his eyes were _not_ that color before. I’d have remembered—because those eyes are striking, and they see right through to my heart. I can't utter a single word.

“He betrayed your trust. You need not fear me, Little Singing Cat. I will not betray you.”

His reaches across the table and magnetically draws my hand to his. I don’t _decide_ to touch his hand—it’s like he pulls my hand into his by the force of his own hand resting on the table and the soft sound of his voice.

When his skin touches mine, I feel an odd, prickly sensation, like my nerves are being stimulated all at once, and it almost feels like some of his body bleeds over into mine. My skin’s membrane isn’t holding; his hand breaks down part of what makes me who I am and sneaks inside—only just for a moment.

“Pain,” he says softly. “You feel such pain and betrayal from those you trust, those who are supposed to protect you. You are so young to feel such pain. I am sorry to be part of the cause. I will do my best to soothe your worries.”

And his words—they _actually_ soothe me. It’s as if what he says changes how I feel, and he soothes my frayed nerves: the sense of betrayal from my parents, my anger at this entire process, my wish to run away from the castle and my life, trading it for a simple life, just for a moment—while he is holding my hand. Is it a spell? I look into those deep purple eyes and my own swim with tears. I blink several times, letting them spill down my face, and he releases my hand. Slightly embarrassed, I look down and wipe my tears on a napkin and whisper gratefully, “Thank you.”

When I offer him a smile, I’m shocked to see his eyes are a deep, dark midnight blue—no longer purple. Dad returns at this point to bring me to the next table.

I wipe my nose on my sleeve—as subtly as possible—when I’m brought to Tokino’s table. He’s not as tall as the others, though still broader than me. He has a very bright smile, which helps put me at ease, too. He laughs easily, is enjoying his stay, lighthearted and easy going. He plans to visit the city today. He chatters happily, much to my relief, while I serve him tea—which he adores—and listen quietly.

Then—I meet with Asato.

He is standing when Dad leads me to his table, and he pulls out my chair, holds my arm to help me sit and lower me into it. 

“I heard you were injured.” His ocean blue eyes stare deep into my eyes—his eyes are large and round, earnest and strangely childlike. “‘Was it the tiger who injured you?”

“I don’t remember,” I say honestly. “And I’m feeling much better than I was. I just have a broken rib.”

“Sangas are precious,” Asato says quietly, kneeling at my feet. “Such injuries should never happen! I will protect you with my life while you are in my care. It’s why I’ve fought so hard to come here—to hear Konoe’s song and protect you. To treat you with anything less than kindness and care would be sacrilege.”

His earnestness is something else, and I’d find it difficult to believe if not for those clear, blue, innocent eyes.

“Please, sit down and eat. May I serve you some tea?” I try to get up, but the black cat is instantly on his feet with his hand on my thigh, making me slightly uncomfortable with the touch. But if I stand, I will increase the pressure on my leg, or worse, his hand might slide upward toward my crotch, so I stay seated.

“No! You must stay seated and rest! You are injured!” Asato urges.

“If you insist and prefer, I will,” I say casually, “but I served tea already—” 

“Those other Tougas do not treat you as you deserve,” Asato whispers, looking into my eyes again. His other hand brushes the hair out of my face and behind my shoulder, and I shiver slightly. “You are precious and special. Anyone can train to be a Touga if they are willing to work hard. But you—you have a special _gift_. You were born with it, and you have worked hard to cultivate it as well. I’ve heard your song. I’m excited to hear you sing for me—even if we only do a mock battle today, or practice, if you aren’t ready for the arena.” 

Asato takes his seat, keeping his gaze on me. He’s mostly finished eating but thinks to ask if I’d like anything. I refuse politely, but I’m considering his offer of declining the arena. I’m still really sore. I am afraid of what Papa would say, however. And this Touga traveled all the way from Kira.

“Tell me of Kira,” I say suddenly. “What is your country like? Are you a prince there?”

Asato explains that he won the right to come here—with his prowess in battle—like the other Tougas I’ve spoken to so far. None have simply earned the right or responsibility by their birth. And all who participated in the contest were volunteers, which surprises me, too. 

“Why would it surprise you?” Asato asks. “We were shown your portrait and told you were a prince of Sisa. If you were to choose a Touga from Kira, it wouldn’t just be a boon for our country and mean a change in status and wealth for us. Every Touga wishes to pair with a powerful Sanga, and Sangas of Sisa are the stuff of legends. King Shui has visited Kira once before, and I heard him sing once when I was a child. It’s what inspired me to become a Touga, so I might have the power of a Sanga of Sisa sing for me and move my heart as his song did. We saw your portrait, too—though it must have been a few years old. You have become only more beautiful, Konoe.” His voice softens, but his flattery embarrasses me.

So did all those Tougas want to fuck me, I wonder?

“Kira doesn’t like outsiders, and we tend to keep to ourselves. Though because we are a small nation, we often need help during wartime, and this was a perfect opportunity to ally ourselves with the most powerful nation. I‘d be a national hero, even if I didn’t win your affection. My status is now a prince, whereas before I lived in poverty. Even if you don’t choose me, other Sangas will want to pair with me when I return because someone as powerful as you sang for me.” 

Kira as a country sounds quite different than Sisa, I think. However, soon, my parents come to our table to announce it’s time to move on. I can’t help noticing a certain silver cat glancing over at the table to see what is going on—he has not excused himself from the table yet, though the other Tougas have. The look on his face is hard to read—and I cannot believe I haven’t glanced over at him even once during my conversation with Asato. I feel slightly guilty. When I look at Rai, he seems slightly hurt, or maybe a little jealous.

“Konoe, please show your guest to the changing area. I expect to see you in the arena. But before you go, drink this,” Papa instructs, handing me a potion in a small bottle. “It will, um, help with the pain in your rib.”

I don’t dare question him now, nor do I dare take Asato up on his offer. I take the potion and drink it—grateful its bitterness has been masked with honey like Papa usually does. It’s also strangely minty which his other pain potions haven’t been. Then I manage a smile. 

“If you will follow me, I’ll show you where we can change into battle gear.” 

“Surely you will keep Konoe’s injury in mind?” Asato asks. “I don’t mind if we skip the arena.” 

“No, in order to test compatibility, we must do battle—even a round or two is sufficient,” Shui says. “Konoe will be fine. Plus, you are an excellent Touga, aren’t you, Asato? I’m sure you will protect him with your best efforts?”

“Yes, he will be safe under my care,” Asato assures my parents confidently.

“We will both keep an eye on his level of exhaustion,” Papa says. “If a Sanga is hurting, he may not have his usual stamina. I’ll be sure to stop the test if I see him tire.”

“Thank you, Papa,” I murmur, but I’m _dreading_ this. I’m already exhausted. I hope the potion does its trick.

I show the Kiran cat to the changing room, and he follows me closely.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Asato asks on our way. 

“Um, yes, I will be fine.” 

“It’s just—you’re weaving around a bit—you can barely walk straight. Whoa!” He grabs my arm when I clumsily trip over my own feet.

What is happening to me? I don’t remember the potion having this effect before! 

“Ah—Thank you,” I say, remembering to be courteous, realizing I didn’t flinch when he touched me. “It’s just the potion my father gave me—I’ll be fine.”

“I will protect you,” Asato promises me, his blue eyes staring into mine again, and he brushes his hands through the fur on my ears. It feels kind of good. I purr softly. “Ah, you’re purring!” His black tail curls up and sways back and forth happily.

“We should probably get going?” I suggest softly. 

“Oh, of course,” and he takes my hand, walking next to me and slowly his steps. 

By the time we arrive he’s holding my arm, and I’m leaning on him.

“I’ll be fine if I just sit down for a bit,” I insist, but Papa’s potions _never_ make me feel this weird. My mouth is dripping with saliva, and I can’t swallow it fast enough. I feel like I might drool if I don’t pay attention. I feel hot, too. Fortunately, I have to take off my vest for the battle, so I pull it off quickly, sitting in just my blue silk blouse and brown trousers. I unbutton the top two buttons of the blouse to get a little more air and watch Asato change casually.

He is tall, but not as tall as Rai. He is built very well—very muscular and lean—and when he turns his back to me and pulls off his shirt, his back is _covered_ with scars, including an incredibly long, deep scar that goes from the side of one hip almost all the way to his shoulder. I have to suppress an audible gasp when I see it—not because I think it’s disgusting, but because I can’t imagine what could have made a scar so deep on such a young cat. And he has so many others! Like he was abused as a child or perhaps his training as a Touga was particularly brutal—it’s painful to look at and I feel such a surge of sympathy for him. I remember—a visceral memory—of the few beatings I have had in my life—all within the last week—and they were all very painful, both physically and mentally. I wouldn’t wish them on anyone, especially not a kitten.

I try to compose myself—because I cannot be thinking about this out in the arena. Instead, I focus on how strong he looks. He carries a huge broadsword—almost as big as me—which he wields with ease, giving it a few practice swings inside. He looks up at me and smiles warmly. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing fine,” I say, hoping that by saying I’m fine I _will_ be fine. The black cat approaches me, kneels down at my feet, takes both my hands in his and kisses my fingers. The intimate gesture is sweet and tender—and just a little intrusive.

“You know, you don’t have to sing well today,” Asato says. “I’ve already heard you sing well, and it is beautiful. I’ll be happy and be able to fight my best for you even if you simply sing at _all_. I won’t lose with you by my side.” 

His statement is very proud and very confident—and yet also very comforting. He is confident enough in his skills that I don’t have to be at my best. He’s happy to just be here. Yet at the same time, I feel like he may be underestimating me, too. I try not to take it that way. Instead, I assume he is trying to comfort me.

“Thank you,” I say simply. “Shall we?” I add before it gets any more intimate. 

He pulls me to my feet, and I’m able to walk after my short rest. I notice I’m looking at him differently—and I notice a scent. He has a different scent—he smells like flowers—like a field full of fresh wildflowers, mixed with a little bit of sweat—which is such a weird combination, but so very Asato, I think. And I notice that he has awfully nice legs, and his arms are extremely muscular—shapely and strong—and his hands are large—and my mind is meandering in its own little world while we are out in the arena—what would those hands feel like on my body—on my bare skin?

What am I thinking!? 

I take a deep breath, close my eyes and find my song. It comes easily—spilling forth at once, loud, clear, and perfect. 

When I make a connection with the black cat, several things happen. First, he turns to me in shock—like he cannot believe the feeling. I’d forgotten to ask if he’s ever paired with a Sanga before. Second, when I first make the connection, it almost feels like I’m talking to two creatures: Asato and some wild beast inside him. The wild animal is something otherworldly and strange, and something—while not exactly hostile—definitely interested in me, almost in a predatory way, like it wants to devour me. It makes me feel more than a little uncomfortable. 

_Hi there. Is this your first time pairing with a Sanga?_

I send my question across our connection in a cheerful tone, just as the first monster is released. _Monster_ , I think. _That animal inside him is a monster!_ I am so careful not to let my fear cross the bond. Asato is Asato, and he is a gentle, innocent soul. He is eager to protect me. I feel it in our bond. I feel his heart in our bond. It reminds me of Rai, painfully so.

_Wow—this is cool—you can read my thoughts?_

_Not exactly. Only if you send them directly._

While it's true I cannot read his thoughts, I can read general emotion across our bond. And his emotions are filled with a protective instinct toward me, almost a strange worship, and a fierce desire to touch me. He pines for me, and I feel his desperation in our bond. It changes how I feel about him, knowing that he desires me, wants me, wants me to feel pleasure and that he is thinking about it. It's what happened when I fought with Rai, too, although Asato doesn't openly flirt with me as Rai did. I think he doesn't know how. He doesn't have the same experience. He is younger and more innocent. I wonder if he may have less experience than I do at this point.

I send a quick boost of power to his sword while he is fighting, and I hear him mutter in surprise out loud. We make short work of the first monster, working together as a pair, like a dance.

 _You’re my first._ That thought is loaded with other feelings, not just responding to my question about pairing with a Sanga. I wonder if I will be his first fuck, as well? This frightens me somewhat. Does he know he has to prepare me? Ah, I can tell him. I am sure he will listen. But what about that monster inside of him? Is that beast I sense, is that his desire? A strange manifestation of his desire? I stop those thoughts right now. I cannot think about that. It's easier to think of that creature as a literal beast.

_I’m honored._

I think about asking about the creature I feel inside of him, but I’m afraid. We fight well together—as well as Rai and me, I think, except that the monster scares me. And I’m exhausted after the fifth round, so Papa shuts us down, and I collapse.

Asato senses my exhaustion and catches me, however. 

“Do you know how to care for him now?” Dad asks.

“If he can tell me what to do, I will help him,” Asato replies.

“Very well. You may take him to his room, but be very gentle with him. Don’t jostle him too much,” Papa warns.

And so, Asato carries me to my chamber. How does he know where it is? I don’t know—but he does, and I have no choice but to allow this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve never really written Asato before—like ever. So—go easy on me!


	15. Kira v. Sisa, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asato takes care of his precious Sanga--and it goes much better than our little prince expects.
> 
> Some dub-con touching, since Konoe can't move, but mostly consensual, especially considering poor Konoe's previous experience.

Asato brings me into my room and places me on a chaise, so I can see him. He kneels before me, looking into my eyes. His are dark blue, like the deepest blue of a sky just before the moon of light sets on a clear summer’s day—earnest and honest.

“What do you need, Konoe? How can I help you? Would you like to bathe?” 

He’s offering, and I need to allow his help. I’d like to be left alone, but I know I need to enforce the bond, or tonight may not go smoothly. I _think_ he will be kind to me—and perhaps if I ask, he will only help me bathe—and _nothing_ more.

“Asato—may I make a request of you?”

“Of course. I would do _anything_ to serve you.” Even this small phrase makes me flustered. The Kiran cat is so honest and open with his feelings that I can’t help it! Now, I’m almost afraid to ask him my favor—it’s so selfish.

“For now—I would really just like to bathe. I have no power in my body, but I do have feeling and I am incredibly sensitive. However, I would really _only_ like to bathe and not do anything else or have anything, er, _done_ to me—at least not until after dinner, when I have my volition back. I am still afraid because of what happened with B-, er, the tiger cat. I know this is a selfish request, but would you be all right with that?”

“Certainly. I would rather have Konoe be a willing participant than be afraid. You do not need to fear me. I do not wish to hurt you,” Asato says, pressing his lips against my fingers. His honesty—if that is what this is—is really getting to me. It makes me stammer slightly. 

“I-I have private b-bathing chambers through those doors—and y-you can b-bathe as well if you like.” 

“It would be an honor to bathe with you! But I will make sure to wash you first.” Asato smiles softly, and an excited look spreads on his face, as he pulls off my boots. He’s eager—almost rough—and it scares me more than a little, making me think I misinterpreted his eagerness to serve as yearning to see me naked.

Next, he moves to my trousers—taking me by surprise as we’re not even in the bathroom yet! He quickly unbuckles my belt and unbuttons my trousers, slipping them off my hips—well, pulling them inside out without further ado—right along with my underwear, leaving me naked except for my silk blouse. His fingers skate along my legs, which he admires with a gasp, once so much of my skin is exposed.

“Your legs are truly beautiful, Konoe,” he murmurs softly, admiring my lower half. It’s not a come-on, but a sincere statement of adoration. It’s embarrassing, and my ears blush in addition to feeling that slight sense of fear.

He sees my face when he reaches up to unbutton my blouse, which he does equally efficiently and quickly—not slowly or seductively. I probably should find this reassuring, but it is slightly intimidating since I cannot move and I am becoming quickly naked before this strange cat. I realize my fangs are bared in fear when he touches them with his fingertips, but he doesn’t recognize my expression as fear. 

“Your fangs remind me of pearls,” he whispers, but he doesn’t slow down—still stripping off my blouse quickly—like he is trying to get me down to nothing, with no barrier between us—as fast as possible. I am shaking with fear, but he seems to think this is normal.

“Your skin is the color of milk—it’s so pretty—even prettier than your portrait. You are even _more_ beautiful than your portrait, Konoe. I didn't think that was possible, and I thought about that picture of you every day I trained to be your Touga.”

 _My_ Touga? I am touched by his words, though still frightened and embarrassed and now ashamed of my nakedness, especially when his hands suddenly appear underneath my thighs and back, touching bare skin. I suddenly wonder exactly what _kind_ of portrait he saw—I never remember posing for a portrait—not ever. Was it official? Or did someone paint me as they imagined I might be? Worse, is there a _nude_ portrait of me floating around out there?

“Are you cold? Let’s get you warmed up.” I am shivering still—even after he says these innocent words—and I am completely naked before him. My tail bristles and it can move, so it floats in front of me to provide me with some degree of modesty. “Ah, your tail is so cute!” 

He’s staring right at it—even as he sets me down in a chair by the showers and is playing with it, touching the hooked tip—I know should just get over it, but I can’t. I still hate when this flaw is pointed out, even at this point.

“Please,” I whisper, uneasily. I don’t really know this cat—only what I saw and felt of him in the arena—but what if he doesn’t do as I asked? 

“What? Oh, I am sorry—you are _cold_.” He switches on the shower, and I watch the steam flood the chamber, and he starts stripping off his clothes. He’s of medium-build—well, quite tall compared to me—very muscular and nicely built—and he leaves his clothes on a stool off to the side, his boots kicked off outside the chamber.

“Come now,” he says, picking me up.

“Ah—Wait! It’s easier if you bring the shower chair into the shower,” I protest nervously.

“I see—you shampoo here and then soak in the pool?”

“Yes,” I say. I’ll be too slippery if he tries to hold me, I’m sure. 

“I won’t drop you,” he whispers in my ear, but he sets me back down in the chair anyway. It has a back, so I can lean against it. He finds the shampoo and soaps up my hair and his own into a lather, then rinses us both. A little gets in my eyes but it’s all right. His clumsiness is actually sort of reassuring and charming. His lack of experience calms me, too, making me trust him a little more. 

Before he starts adding soap to a washcloth, I ask, “Would you condition my hair, too?” 

“Condition?”

“The second bottle? Just add a little to my hair, comb it through with your claws and let it sit while you soap me up? Please?”

“Sure—but what’s the point?”

“It makes it easier to comb later,” I explain. “It takes out the knots and tangles. My hair is unruly otherwise. You will see.”

He does as I ask, combing it through very gently with his claws, taking extra care not to scratch me, which I am somewhat worried about. I don’t ask him to condition the rest of my fur, which I'm sure he would do if I asked. 

“Would you like to try the conditioner, too?” I ask.

“Why not?” Asato shrugs and he smiles brightly. “At least I will smell like Konoe.” I don’t feel the need to mention that this conditioner is from Setsura. It won’t add to the conversation if he knows we will both be smelling like the silver cat. 

Then he spends some time scrubbing down my body, washing me from the tips of my ears to the bottom of my feet with that washcloth. I don’t think I got _that_ dirty in the arena, but certainly, I get very clean in this shower. He lets me rinse under the shower while he scrubs his own skin quite hard—and again, I’m struck by the scars on his back. 

I almost ask about them and then I don’t dare. I’m not sure I _want_ to know—what if he got them as a result of training? What if they are _my_ fault? I really don’t want to know if they are. Then, he rinses his hair and mine, too, this time taking extra care not to get anything in my eyes.

Once we are both rinsed, he brings me over to the pool and walks into it, carrying me. Instead of setting me on the side as I expect, he sits down and holds me on his lap, rubbing my shoulders gently, soothingly. It’s a little strange to be held when we are both nude.

“Is this okay? You are still very relaxed. You can float if you like. Would you like to float for a while?” 

“N-no, this is fine,” I say, timidly. I’m not sure about being quite so close to him, but floating would mean exposing more of my body. While we are both naked, he isn’t touching me in a sexual way, although I can tell he is interested from where we are touching, specifically where he is touching my back and my behind. But he is ignoring this, at least for now, and so do I. I hope this is all right, though I feel slightly guilty and selfish for doing so.

“This is a luxurious bathing chamber. I’ve never seen anything so fine,” Asato says.

“Didn’t they build you something fancy after you were promoted to Kira’s prince Touga?” I ask.

“Kira doesn’t spend its resources on such things—although I personally think there is merit to doing so if it cares for a precious Sanga,” Asato replies, and his reference to me as “precious” sends another shiver down my neck. “I have been moved to much better living quarters. Kira is a small country, you see, and we spend much of our resources on war and training.”

“I see,” I reply, but I really can’t imagine such a thing.

“I’d much rather spend our resources on discovering and caring for precious Sangas, like you,” he murmurs softly in my ear, ruffling out my wet fur. I’m sure it looks like a porcupine. I am really worried now that I am not going to meet his expectations. Should I say something?

“Um, thank you for your tender care of me,” I begin, my voice slightly hesitant.

“You’re a precious Sanga,” Asato states again, and his claws comb through my hair. “Oh—the conditioner does _indeed_ make a difference! You’re right!” Rather sweetly, he runs his claws through his own messy mane of black hair. He isn’t helping me feel any less flustered, though. 

“Well, I’m really not all that special,” I start. “I-I’m j-just a regular cat, like anyone else. I-”

“How can you _say_ that!? Konoe, I heard you sing! Your song was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard! You _are_ special—and look at you!”

He holds up his arm next to mine and his tail alongside mine, wrapping it around mine—the sensation is very strange, while not exactly erotic, it’s slightly intrusive. His skin is a lovely olive tone and much darker than mine, tanned from training in the moon of light—I can see tan lines on his arms from where his vest has covered his skin. But his skin is still much darker than mine.

“You also have beautiful skin,” I say. “And your tail is long and straight—your fur is silky and soft—and mine is just... crooked,” unable to keep the slight sound of disgust from my voice.

“But your skin is so pale and lovely—like it has never seen the moon of light. It must be much cooler in your land, or you train indoors. And you have this wonderful lucky tail. I've never seen a tail like yours, nor skin like yours. I noticed that even in your portrait.”

After that reference, I _have_ to ask about the portrait.

“Asato, I don’t remember ever having an official portrait made. What did it look like? Who painted it?” 

“I’m not sure who painted it, but you looked very lovely.” 

“Um, what did I look like? What was I wearing?”

“Well, you were slightly younger than you are now—but really, you must have been painted older at that time, since I saw it five years ago, and you are sixteen now, right? I think you looked perhaps at fourteen? I think it was an impression of what you’d look like when we’d meet you, painted by someone who'd met you once. You were wearing the gold crown you wore the first day I met you—you had the same white and gold fur, the same golden hair, though it was slightly shorter, the same tail, which was wrapped around your body shyly. In the portrait, you were painted from behind, looking over your shoulder at the painter. Your eyes were the same honey color, but he couldn’t capture their power. You looked very timid and shy.”

“What was I wearing?” I ask again.

“The crown you wore the first day you met us,” Asato replies, innocently.

I wait a moment for him to continue, and he doesn’t. It takes me a moment to realize that means the crown was _all_ I was wearing.

“I was nude?! In the portrait you saw of me? I was naked?!” 

“Well, how _else_  would we see how beautiful you were? The beauty of your skin? Your purity?” 

“Th-that—th-that portrait w-was n-never _official_!” I stammer, feeling blood rush to my face and fill my ears. “I-I n- _never_ p-posed for s-such a p-painting!”

“It’s all right,” Asato soothes me gently. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I realized it must have been from someone’s imagination when I first met you and saw how young you were,created to spur us on to train.”

“I-I must be quite d-disappointing,” I say.

“Not at all! As I said, I think you are even more gorgeous in person. The purity of your beauty could not be communicated in that or any picture.”

A small noise, like a sigh, comes out of my mouth—I’m not sure if it’s a result of being flustered or dismayed—but in any case, I have no rebuttal for the profuse praise he is lavishing on me.

“I am just afraid I will disappoint you, um, _later_ —when we, um—you know...” I purposely let my voice trail off to avoid talking about this evening.

“When? You could never disappoint me, Konoe. What do you mean?”

“After dinner? You know—in the bedroom? When we connect that way? I have very little experience,” I murmur quietly.

“So do I,” Asato assures me. “Don’t worry—my only desire is to touch you, Konoe. If you allow me this, I will be happy.”

“T-touch me?” I ask, somewhat surprised.

“I only want to be yours,” Asato says, his voice gentle. He runs his hand through my hair and touches my ears again. “Perhaps—right now, you might allow me a single kiss?”

“N-now?” I ask as he moves my body closer.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” he assures me, “but I would very much like to kiss you.” 

“J-just one kiss?” I confirm, slightly nervous. I feel terribly vulnerable. 

“And then I will dry you off and help you dress if you like, or you may sleep—whichever you prefer.”

“Okay. J-just one. And j-just a k-kiss.” My stammering is ridiculous and embarrassing. It's not like I haven't been kissed before! I don't know why he flusters me so much!

When the Kiran cat smiles, he looks so youthful—like a child—joyful and innocent—like he’s been granted permission to do something he’s wanted all his life. I could hardly refuse his gentle request, after all. He has been quite tender and gentle with me—except for stripping off my clothes, which was so eager it frightened me. But I don’t have time to think about that now.

He hums quietly, as he turns my body toward his, and holding the nape of my neck and the back of my head, he takes my mouth at the perfect angle—like he has planned this for years. His lips feel as muscular as the rest of his body, much unlike Rai’s plush ones, but they aren’t at all unpleasant. They feel slightly chapped, too, which makes him feel much younger than Rai, also, much less experienced and slightly more nervous. He presses his lips against mine with such eagerness than I feel his fangs pressing almost painfully against my lips before he opens his mouth and his tongue slips inside mine.

Ever so tentatively, loosening his grip on the back of my neck and head—almost as though he isn’t sure of himself or that this is even okay—his tongue gently and clumsily explores my teeth, the tips of my fangs and the tops of my molars, the back of my throat which makes me purr, and then finally he rubs his tongue firmly over mine—the muscles entwining around each other, just like our tails did. In fact, my tail is reaching out to his at this very moment and trying to wrap around his in the same way our tongues are doing right now.

We are both purring, and a small sighing, gasping sound is coming from my mouth—it sounds both musical and almost helpless—like I want more—and I _do_ want more. I want Asato to touch me _more_. 

When he pulls his lips away from mine, I look up at him, my lashes low and eyes half-lidded—slightly confused and more than desperate—but my body has responded to that gentle, very unconfident, ever-so-sweet kiss. It’s how I might kiss someone if it were my duty to fuck someone I finally met and whose portrait I had been lusting over for five years. I could feel his desire for me—and also his desire for that person he had seen for years in that portrait—behind the tenderness of that kiss.

I _loved_ it.

“Shall I dry you off now?”

“Um, please,” I say, my voice soft. I am finding myself shy, tears burning the corners of my eyes, unable to tell him what I thought and how I felt about the kiss—and I still can’t move.

I’m lifted up out of the spa and a fuzzy towel surrounds my body, a separate one for my hair. Asato wraps up his waist and carries me out to my chamber, where he starts a small fire in the fireplace. It’s cold—so I don’t complain—but I don’t watch. I really am afraid of fire.

“What would you like next?” he asks, solicitously.

“I think I would like to rest. But would you comb my hair first?”

He obliges. 

“And may ask one more favor?” I ask shyly.

“Of course,” Asato replies.

“Would you groom me?”

“Groom you? Your fur?” Asato looks slightly confused. It’s strange that I’m asking, but I know I like it and it will make me much more comfortable around him. I just _know_ it.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say shyly. “It just makes me feel, um, more _connected_?”

“Then yes, I would love to,” Asato replies. And he attacks my ears. He is not exactly gentle like Rai was, but I am covered in his scent, which is my goal. I _need_ this, I tell myself—it helps me relax—even when his fangs graze the thin skin of my ears.

He doesn’t take long, and he uses lots of saliva. To my shock, when he is done with my ears, he also grooms my tail, which he grabs from under the blankets happily and licks from the base all the way to the tip—making me shiver and sigh. This is not at _all_ relaxing—however, I feel that he is enjoying himself immensely, and I can hear him purring loudly behind me. 

I try my best to relax and I close my eyes. I pretend to sleep while he grooms my tail, so when he is finished, he wraps it around my body loosely under the blankets, and then tucks the blanket around me tightly. Then he holds me from behind, tucking his pointed chin over my shoulder, still purring softly. His breathing slows, and he drifts off to sleep for real—and I do despite my slight anxiety.

I’m clean, smelling nicely of the cat who will _surely_ be taking me tonight—but I’m not terrified. Asato may frighten me a bit, but he doesn’t scare me as much the other Tougas did. He is more like me, I think. I am sure I will be all right in his hands. I drift off into a restful, dreamless sleep.


	16. Kira v. Sisa, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally. This chapter is really, really long. And yes, Asato is slightly out of character with all his talking, but this is his main screen time, so bear with it. I wanted to have him bathing naked in the wild, but I couldn't fit that in here. (Sorry!)
> 
> I hope it pleases you, Empressing, because it was fucking hard to write, damn it. And damn your expectations. ;)
> 
> Sex, people. Not particularly triggering. Fucking read it if you're in the mood. Fine, I'll leave a summary. In the notes as usual.

Asato isn’t in my room when I am woken by my staff to prepare for dinner. He must have gone back to his own chamber after I drifted off to sleep. I feel slightly disappointed. 

However, I take special care in getting ready this evening—dressing in nice clothes, styling my hair in a shiny ponytail, straight down my back, leaving several tendrils around my face, and wearing that crown that I wore the evening I met the Tougas, which creeps me out just a little bit—but I decide that I won’t worry about that portrait too much. If some artist’s perverted imagination helped inspire Asato to train to get here, maybe I should go with the flow and give him his reward. I will be kind about it. 

Asato seemed slightly clumsy with me this afternoon, much less experienced than anyone else I have been with so far—like almost as inexperienced as _I_ am. I worry about tonight: will his lack of experience be a problem and cause me pain? He is still significantly bigger than me, and sex can hurt if it’s not done properly, and that concerns me. But I know he doesn’t _want_ to hurt me, and he is kind. So I’m sure if I tell him it hurts he will stop—I hope, anyway.

Though then I remember singing for him in the arena—that other being I felt inside of him—that _monstrous_ thing—that part of him who wants to devour me—and I get a chill, and a shudder crawls down my spine and into my tail. What _was_ that? Was it just sexual attraction, perhaps, manifested in a physical form, or was it something else?

What do I actually _know_ about Kira? They are known for their powerful fighters, of course, but didn’t Papa say something about magic as well? What if that powerful monster is _real_?

Once I am prepared, I step outside my chamber, ready for dinner—and my parents don’t meet me this time. And I am ambushed—by the silver Touga—who grabs me and pulls me in close. I am so immersed in my thoughts and surprised by his touch that I bristle and yelp when he grabs me, and he looks slightly dismayed by my frightened reaction.

“What’s wrong?” Rai asks. His voice is gentle and soft—he didn’t want to frighten me; I’m sure it wasn’t his intention. I can feel his nose nuzzling my ears, trying to pick up my scent. I’m sure he can smell Asato on me as well.

I sigh softly, relaxing in his arms—he feels _so_ good—so warm and powerful—and he feels safe and comfortable.

“N-nothing,” I explain. “My thoughts were just elsewhere.” Worried about a monster? I can’t admit that, though. I won't. He will worry even more.

“You performed very well today, kitten. Your song was gorgeous despite your injury. Do you like this Kiran Touga?” Again—his voice is strangely soft. Is he hurt? I look up, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. His icy blue gaze is looking at my ears, which he is stroking gently.

“Um, yes, he is very kind.” 

“Your song was very different for him than it was for me,” Rai remarks. And then he finally meets my eyes. He looks wounded, but he continues with his voice even and practical. “You need to choose the Touga who suits _you_ the best, Konoe. That Kiran Touga—he loves you as well.”

 _What is he saying?_ I stare up at Rai’s face, and my chin is touched lightly.

“May I kiss you?”

Is he afraid? He looks… afraid. I feel terrible—tears burn in the backs of my eyes, and I don’t know what to do. I lean up on my tiptoes and I throw my arms around him, pressing my lips to his, without answering him. Tears leak from my eyes, and I think, _I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do._

He tastes just right, he feels just right—but so did Asato. How will I choose? How will I _ever_ choose? My chest starts to ache. 

Rai loosens his light grip around my waist, touching my tail softly—running his hand along its length, making me shiver with pleasure. It makes me remember the last time we were together in _that_ way. But this doesn’t help my decision. He brushes the tears from my eyes.

“Don’t cry, little one,” he says softly, smiling gently. “Whatever you decide, I will be happy for you. As long as you are with someone who cares for you and loves you with his whole being, I will be pleased.”

“How can you _say_ that?!” I burst out. “It isn’t fair! This process isn’t _fair_! I would _never_ make my son do this! It’s cruel, and it’s mean, and it’s _horrible_! In every sense—I can’t think of _anything_ that is positive about it—” I am sobbing, but he interrupts me, putting a finger on my lips to silence me.

“Konoe, we never would have met otherwise. Every moment—every minute—we have spent together is precious to me. Don’t cry, little Sanga. Don’t cry.” Rai holds me gently against his chest, careful of my rib, soothing me, rubbing my back and shoulders, running his hand through my hair and nuzzling my ears. “Just go with your heart—you have a pure heart, a pure soul—and it comes through in your song. I heard it again when you sang for the Kiran this morning. You will do fine, regardless of whom you choose. You just need to follow wherever your heart leads.”

His compassionate words are kind—almost too kind, too tender—and too much for me to handle. I almost wish he would be angry with me, but he knew this was a competition from the start, and he probably also realizes he’s had more time with me than the others. So perhaps he knows he has had an advantage, too. He’s spent much more time with me than the other Tougas have, and yet—he still is willing to let me choose? No—he knows that choosing is the _only_ power I have, and he is unwilling to take my choice away or influence me one way or another. And that makes my heart hurt. Part of me wishes he would try to convince me!

“Rai.” My voice is covered with tears, even still, but I have stopped sobbing.

He pulls away for a moment, just to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“Stop now. You look so handsome tonight—so adorable. We don’t want your eyes red. Are you all right now? You will do just fine tonight, Konoe. He will adore you—treasure you, I’m sure.” And Rai’s voice, while he is encouraging me, sounds truly pained, and I can see sadness sparking in those ice blue eyes—not exactly like jealousy, but something akin to envy. 

“Will you—um, will you walk with me?” I ask softly.

“I would love to—but is it permitted?” Rai asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t care.” I grab Rai’s arm and drag him toward the dining room.

Dinner is somewhat of a blur. My parents are not pleased when I arrive with Rai, but I don’t meet their critical gaze longer than a moment. I am slightly concerned they will forbid him from seeing me, however, so I wonder if I should tone it down. I meet with Tokino and Nano, and I am compliant and obedient. Bardo is still recovering, so he is not there. I’m glad that I don’t have to face him. The new Meigi Touga, Nano, still frightens me—even with his even, gentle voice, he terrifies me. There is something in his tone, a sort of wildness, an uncontrolled power lurking beneath that calm exterior, that scares me. But it’s not his turn. Tonight is all about Kira.

So I am guided to Asato’s table, and I find I am unable to eat very much. My Dad presents me to Asato and I see the Kiran cat’s gaze travel up to my crown, and his deep blue eyes sparkle like sapphires. As soon as my father leaves, he opens his mouth.

“Konoe, you wore the crown,” he says.

“I did. Do you like it?” I ask, looking up at him through my lashes, and his face lights up even more at my expression. I am deliberately trying to be a little bit seductive. I have a plan this evening. I know he doesn’t have much experience—and neither do I—so I think I can do this and actually maintain some control in the bedroom. My rib still hurts quite a bit, which might be what convinces me to at least try.

“I do like it,” Asato replies, and his fangs show slightly when he replies. Also—I can smell his scent from across the table. At least, I think it’s from across the table. It might be from him grooming me earlier today, though.

I push the food around on my plate and take a few bites. I’m terribly nervous, despite not being afraid of Asato—except for that thing I saw inside of him in the arena. What _was_ that? Does he know it’s there? Can I ask him about it?

“Aren’t you hungry?” Asato asks. “You should eat. A Sanga needs to replenish his strength each day, especially after singing as you did.” He stares at me so intensely from across the candlelit table—and his eyes are oddly captivating. I could drown in their depths. I remember how it felt to be connected to Asato in the arena—it felt good, even with that predator looming over his shoulder, watching me, waiting for me. But _what was that_? A real monster? A manifestation of desire?

As I worry about these things, Papa stops by our table and hands me a small bottle.

“Drink this, son. It will help ease your pain this evening. It shouldn’t make you sleepy. If you need a potion to ease your discomfort when you are ready for sleep, send for me. I have one ready and I will send it to you.” 

I stare at the bottle, wondering exactly what is in it. If it’s the same thing that he gave me before the arena, I think it might help boost my confidence and bravery a little, so I take it from his hands and drink it.

“Thank you, Papa,” I say, gratefully. I’m not exactly sure I feel grateful, however. I just would like this process to be over—I think these thoughts just as I glance over at Rai’s table, and he watches as I drink the potion. I know he doesn’t think I’m ready to be serving anyone at this point, injured as I am. But I want this process over and done with, and honestly, I think Asato will be fine.

“I will be very gentle with you,” Asato says—and he has appeared suddenly at my side. He has finished his meal and he smells a little like peppermint—well, peppermint and those wildflowers. What a strange scent for a cat! He smells lovely. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.

“Why don’t you take Konoe to your chamber, Asato?” Papa suggests. “It looks like he is ready for you.”

 _Ready for him?_ What is this? I feel like my father is trying to sell me—and a chill crawls up my spine. Why would he insist on this? I feel like leaving his presence _now_ , at any rate. It doesn’t occur to me that might have been his intention.

“Of course,” Asato says, and he gently pulls me to my feet. I’m slightly unsteady, so I take his arm, smiling softly at my own ridiculousness—ignoring my parents. He leads me out of the dining room and down the hall. I watch the carpet pass under my boots as I walk—the lamps on the wall flicker in strange shadows. The elongated shadows of us look unearthly—and I catch a glimpse of that monster I saw earlier, and it makes me startle momentarily. Asato responds at once to my flinching, and he bristles as well.

“What is it?”

“Oh—ah—nothing. I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. I’m sorry,” I reply, embarrassed. I look down at my feet sheepishly.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Konoe. The shadows look strange to me, too.”

I look up at Asato, and he is looking back at me with such earnestness that I have to smile.

“You are really kind, aren’t you?”

He looks surprised at my words.

“Um, I don’t really know,” he replies, leading the way. “I don’t have much experience around other cats. I grew up isolated in my community.”  
  
“You did? Why?”

“My father—he was not Kiran. So I was not accepted by others until after I had defeated the other Tougas for the position of the Kiran Touga Prince. And even now, there are some who believe I should not hold the position because I am not a full bred Kiran—other blood flows in my veins.” 

“Who are your parents?”

“I never met my father and know very little about him, except that he was not Kiran. My mother… well, she died when I was very young. My memories of her are hazy at best. I remember her face just a little, and her scent was like flowers, I think. And she had a beautiful soft smile, though it seemed sort of sad.” 

“Ah. You are an orphan? Who raised you, then?” I ask, my heart pulling underneath my clothes. I am clutching at my chest over my clothes.

“Kagari—she is a female, now promoted to the head female, at my village. She raised me, cared for me, taught me everything I know. I love her very much. She is very proud of me for coming here.” 

“I’m sure she is,” I murmur. My head feels fuzzy, probably due to Papa’s potion. We must be headed to his chamber since I’m sure this isn’t the way to mine. “Are we going to your room?”

“Is that all right?”

“Of course.” I have no right to refuse, after all.

I follow him rather timidly, considering what my plan is once we arrive. I have a particular idea of what I’d like to do once we arrive, and I’m not sure I’ll be brave enough to carry it out. Would I be brave enough to it for Rai? I wonder. I saw his expression when I left the dining room, though I tried not to look. He had a soft smile on his face, and he nodded at me—but there was such a sad look in his eyes that I couldn’t miss it.

I hate this entire process! It’s simply cruel!

I push the silver cat from my head, and try to keep the Kiran in my mind for now. It’s _his_ evening—and he is kind and thoughtful. He may not be experienced, but he has worked hard to get here. I would bet that if I’d seen him first, I’d probably feel the same about him as I do about Rai. It’s so confusing.

“I am glad you made it here, out of all the other Tougas who could have come from Kira,” I say softly. 

Asato looks up at me, just before opening the door to his room.

“You are?” 

“I am because you are kind.”

“I’m glad I was able to come as well,” Asato says, and this time, he moves closer to me, and he touches my face, brushing the hair off my forehead. “Your hair is so soft. All of you—you are just so soft and precious. Come inside—I’ve prepared the room for you.”

Smiling excitedly, he opens the door.

I’m met with a surprise. The room is covered with the low light of a few candles—scattered throughout the room—casting a soft, warm glow. While I don’t like fire, the candles look lovely and I don’t mind them so much on their own, and they really look gorgeous with the rest of the room, which doesn’t even look like part of my castle. I can’t believe what Asato has done in here—how long he has spent making this just right.

There are beautiful flowers decorating the space—covering the bed, the floor, and the furniture. Full blooms in pots, as well as petals, cover the room, almost like a field. It smells _heavenly_. The blossoms are different than Rai’s white flower selection—these are the same flower, one that I’ve seen carpeting the fields outside the castle, a wild one—a weed, the royal gardener would call it—yellow, orange, pink, red and white—and heavenly, almost wild fragrance. It enhances Asato’s scent in a strange way.

A small table holds a bowl of fresh fruit, fresh juice, and fresh bread—and the fruit and juice look like kuim. He remembered my favorite and must have had it brought in specially. The bed has been moved to the center of the room and is draped in chiffon curtains. I decide instantly that is where I will make my appearance.

“Asato—this is beautiful! And you even remembered my favorite food. Thank you!”

He beams proudly, looking even younger than he is. He pours two glasses of juice and hands one to me.

“I have one more thing for you. There was something in the way your eyes moved that evening at the first banquet—I thought you might like it when I found it. Close your eyes, and I want you sitting.” He moves me suddenly, and I forget how incredibly powerful he is. He is careful and gentle, though I’m moved so fast that the juice slops over the rim of the glass. While licking it off, I have to catch my breath when I find Asato hovering over me. “Your eyes are not closed.”

“I-I’m s-sorry,” I murmur. “I was startled. Please, do not tell my parents.” 

“Why would I do that?”

“I’m to obey you—and I will be punished if I do not.”

Asato’s ears flatten. “You’re of age, aren’t you? That seems cruel. What if someone asks you to do something you don’t wish to do?”

“I’m to obey, submit, do it without question. I’m to trust the Touga, put my life in his hands when we are on the battlefield and in the bedroom.”

“Konoe, that doesn’t make any sense!” The black cat blurts.

“What? Why not? It’s the nature of the relationship, isn’t it?” 

“Not at _all_ ,” Asato insists, his eyes boring into mine—they are a deep, lovely blue. “In the arena, I put my trust in _you_. I put my life in _your_ hands, though I didn’t even know you.”

I go quiet for a moment. It might appear that the Touga protects the Sanga, but without him, he is just a regular fighter. Perhaps he has a point.

“You are precious, Konoe.” He kisses my cheek softly, and then repeats, “Will you close your eyes for me? Just for a minute?”

I obey, and he takes the glass from me. In its place, I feel the soft tickle of something—feathers, perhaps—on my fingertips. He teases gently then it suddenly slips off my hand. Feeling it disappear so suddenly makes me take a surprised breath, and my claws draw reflexively—not in defense, but in order to catch whatever he was teasing me with. My eyes pop open, and he is holding a small blossom just above my hand—it looks like a cattail.

I played with these as a child and find that even as a full-fledged adult, my instincts are _still_ tickled by these tempting blossoms, often to my embarrassment. Tonight, again, I can’t help myself. I lunge up at the blossom which is held bewitchingly just out of reach! I know I will feel so satisfied if I can catch it—and my fangs bare, my pupils narrow to slits.

I leap up out of the chair and still—Asato knows where I am about to go and keeps it tauntingly out of reach. My breath picks up—along with my heart rate—and I take another swipe. I’m only playing—and not until Asato laughs out loud do I realize what a ridiculous spectacle I am making of myself.

My ears redden to a deep blush and I look down—or I try to—but my eyes are helplessly drawn up to the moving blossom. I can't help myself!

“Asato...” I’m terribly embarrassed, but it can’t be helped if a Ribika’s instincts are tickled! 

“I thought you might like to play with me a little.”

Asato leaps onto the bed, holding the blossom just out of reach when I stand on tiptoe. I cannot help myself and I give chase. 

Now—as an adult cat, my _mind_ realizes if I really wanted the blossom, I would take it from his hand, not make these ridiculous leaps in the air at the blossom dangling from the stem. I _know_ this—even as both my feet leave the floor, I realize the better technique would be to tackle him—and he would hesitate in an instant, for fear of hurting my broken rib.

But I just can’t make my body do as my mind knows best!

It’s as though I’m driven to act in this ridiculous, wild, childish, unseemly, and _definitely_ unroyal way—which would be humiliating in any other circumstance. But with Asato, it feels like a natural interaction. He is _playing_ with me!

He tires me out until my legs won’t leave the floor anymore—our game goes on for fifteen minutes. Finally, he lets me capture the blossom and a growl comes out of my mouth—totally on reflex. It feels _so_ satisfying to be allowed to catch it! 

“You like to play, don’t you, Konoe?”

I’m lying on the soft animal skin rug in front of the fireplace—which is lit by several candles—with the silly blossom hanging out of my mouth.

“Um, I-I simply cannot resist these blossoms,” I admit, embarrassed again by making such a display.

“I’d like to see you play more,” Asato says, rubbing my ears and standing up. He brings me the juice he poured earlier and drinks from his own glass. “The way you move is enchanting.”

I accept the juice and drink all of it, incredibly thirsty from our game. He sits next to me, and I glance at his eyes and then look at the candles in the fireplace, somewhat anxiously. 

“How did you know?” I ask. “Do I come across as that childish?”

“No.” It’s spoken immediately and with such firmness, I turn my face toward him. He looks so earnest. “Not childish, but _wild_. A Sanga should be one with nature—and you have been so very... _caged_ here.” 

“Caged?” I echo. He pours a little more juice, easily reaching the pitcher from his seat next to me. 

“A beautiful, gilded cage, but it is a cage nonetheless. I should like to see you roam free—do as you please, see the world, become one with nature. You pull your song from nature and the universe, don’t you?”

I think before I respond. Is that where my song comes from?

“My songs come from a place deep in my heart or perhaps my soul, and often express a feeling,” I explain.

“How do you replenish that well, if not in nature, Konoe? Your father—the Sanga king—he knows and understands this.”

“I am permitted in the gardens,” I say. I realize he has a point, and I know my dad does tend to wander the kingdom frequently. Is this why?

“But you are not permitted outside the castle, are you? And I saw none of these blooms there, though they are your favorite, aren’t they?”

“My father said they distracted me—and they did! When I first started training, I’d often lose my song because of these blossoms blowing in the wind.”

“That is how they _call_ to you,” Asato says—it’s such a whimsical image. Me, a kitten—a baby, really, being made to pull out a song made for battle and responding to a call from a flower. “Flowers have no mouths, no hands with which to gesture. They only have their beauty to entice you.” 

I look at the bloom in my hands. I suppose it is beautiful, though perhaps not traditionally. Asato is a little like such a flower, I think, in the way he entices me to express my wild and unseemly side.

“How did you know?” I repeat my question. 

“I didn’t. I guessed. The castle is stone and cold, the gate guarded heavily. Surely, your parents treasure you, Konoe. They want to protect you. They decorate this cell of yours with enough distractions so you don’t realize what you’re missing—and you only disappoint them because you don’t understand a world you’ve never seen. I saw—no. I _see_ a fire burning in your eyes. You’re like a bird who has only this week discovered he has wings.” Asato has never spoken this much about anything, and I can’t tear myself away. My ears are tipped toward him, my eyes glued to his face, though I watch his hands and his tail for non-verbal cues as he continues. “You are powerful—a powerful weapon—and the future of your country. No amount of money could replace your existence. Your song is powerful enough to kill—I know it. I _heard_ it. But you are not just a plain Sanga. You have a purity of heart, a generosity, a desire to please. Plus—you are _beautiful_.”

My jaw goes slack when I hear his description of me. I'm so flustered I don’t know how to respond.

“Your parents need your cooperation, for you are now more than just their son.” 

I am quiet for a moment. I hold a power of my own? Even during this process? Is that why Papa has been behaving so erratically? I gaze into the fireplace, watching the candles' flames flicker. Am I wild? I don’t know. Perhaps I would have been if I’d been allowed to follow my instincts. My confidence has received a huge boost— _just_ what I need to carry out my plan and show off my “wild” side. It’s the perfect response for the gift Asato has given me, so I take a deep breath.

“I too have a small gift for you—but to prepare it, you will need to excuse yourself for a few minutes. Can I ask such a thing from you?” I look up at him shyly. “I’ll call when I’m ready.”

“Of course!” Asato excitedly gets to his feet and slips out of his chambers into the attached chamber. His room has a bath attached—it probably is shared with the adjacent room, but no one is staying in that room at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly pull off my boots and set them by the chair. Then, I unbutton my vest and my blouse and slip out of both, folding them up neatly and starting a new pile on the seat of the chair. I also pull off my belt and pants, considering if this is really such a great idea. I have already said as much, so I pull off my underwear, too, leaving myself completely nude, except for the crown. I pull my hair out of my ponytail and straighten the crown on my head, then hurry to the bed. I close the sheer silk drapes, and realize my tail is bristled up in excitement or shyness—perfectly—and I turn over on my side, so my back faces the door of the bathing chamber. I turn my head back toward the door, looking over my shoulder, and I call Asato’s name softly.

“Asato, I’m ready.”

I can’t believe I’m doing something so bold. My tail won’t stay still and swishes both wantonly, and my ears are twitching nervously. I swallow thickly as the door opens. I hope he doesn’t find my actions too forward.

Asato comes out, looking around for me—and he first sees my clothes on the chair. 

“Konoe?”

“I’m right here,” I say, keeping my voice soft, but I sound so nervous. “Why don’t you join me?” Heat floods my cheeks, chest, and ears, but I try to stay as brave as possible.

Then—his eyes land on me—and I feel them crawling up my form. I hear an audible gasp when he realizes what I’ve done, and then again when he sees that I’ve mimicked what he’s been working toward. I’m trying to become what he saw all this time in that fake painting.

“I—um—I d-don’t know if I-I’m as g-good as the a-artist’s imagination, b-but I-I w-wanted to t-try f-for your sake,” I stammer, my teeth chattering nervously. His pupils are blown wide and dark, and he approaches the bed, pulling back the sheer drapes in a single pull. His fangs are bared and incredibly long—and as they are, I can almost see that hungry monster I saw inside of his mind while we were connected in the arena. It was his _desire_ for me, I think—it couldn’t have been a real monster, could it? I try soothing myself.

He isn’t speaking or moving, now that the drapes are open. He is just watching me—his eyes looking up and then down—from my head to my toes, the tips of my blushing ears to my crooked tail. I wonder if I have made a mistake.

“Asato—is this okay?” I look at him somewhat desperately, unable to hide my shyness. I wish I were as confident in my looks as, say, Rai—but when he comes to mind, so does the image of him stripping out of his clothes. And I’m here with _Asato_ tonight—it’s where I want to be!

“Konoe...” his voice is low and purring, much deeper and rougher than I have ever heard, and I know this was the right choice. “You are so beautiful... so much more beautiful than that painting. May I touch you?”

“It’s your privilege to do whatever you like with me tonight,” I say softly. “I would just ask that you are gentle.”

“Whatever— _anything_ I want?” Asato breathes. His hands are on the bed, approaching my body, which prickles up slightly. Is it fear? Desire? I’ve never so boldly offered myself to another Touga—well, except to Rai, but that wasn’t even on his night. I remember asking him to make love to me properly—and push the thought right out of my mind, like I have the others before it, struggling to remain in the present.

“Please, just be _gentle_ with me? Do you promise?” I implore him with my eyes. “My rib—”

“I would never do anything to hurt you. You are a precious, valuable Sanga. I've always dreamed... oh, Konoe!”

He suddenly kisses my lips with ardent fervor, rolling me onto my back but careful not to squish my body. He runs his hands through my hair and the soft fur on my ears, and I shiver. My tail fluffs out farther and seeks his out, wrapping itself around his, entwining itself and letting go, then repeating the process. 

I don’t want to be the only one naked, so I begin working off his clothes, struggling with the buckles and belts, and he quickly grows impatient. He tears off his shirt and pants, stripping them from his body and throwing them off the side of the bed. Then, he sits down next to me and pulls me on top of his body.

“This way, I won’t squish you. Your rib won’t get hurt,” he says softly, continuing to kiss me, and running his fingers down the length of my body, down my sides. I get goosebumps in the wake of his soft and gentle caress. His desire to touch me is overwhelming—I can _feel_ it, left from our bond this morning, I think. It’s intimate and strange, but more than anything, he wants to run his hands across my skin. “Perfect—like fresh milk,” he whispers softly.

I return his kiss, and I tentatively run my hands down his chest. He moves a little when I scoot my body to a more comfortable position. He watches me—I’m currently straddling him on my knees, as he sits up against the pillows. His skin is so different than mine, rougher in texture and tan, though he isn’t much older than I am. We are both naked, and I feel myself blushing under his scrutiny—even as bold as I was to appear before him. 

“It didn’t show how prettily you blush,” Asato murmurs.

“What?” I ask. 

“The portrait. The artist—he didn’t see you move or _know_ you. He took his best guess, I think. He got your facial features right, which makes me think he adored you—but he _never_ saw you blush.”

I feel my ears warming even hotter under the touch of Asato’s fingers. He strokes my ears gently, and I try not to flatten them, but they twitch slightly. I glance up at his face—and he is not looking at my face. His gaze is lower—at my throat? Almost a predatory glance wanders down my chest and I feel slightly self-conscious with my smaller stature. Also, I fluff up my tail and bring it toward the front of my body to cover the part of me I’m least familiar with showing off.

“I’m not really used to being nude around others,” I say softly.

Asato’s hands sweep down my face, touching my cheeks, my throat, my shoulders, then tracing my collarbones. His fingers run down the center of my chest to my belly to my navel, then touch my tail, gently. He brushes over my hips and legs, and I shiver. Since I’m on top of him, of course, he can feel the shudder that rushes through my body, and he smiles, fangs showing eagerly. 

“It’s the same as being around people with clothing on,” he says. I don’t quite understand what he means, and I tilt my head slightly, waiting for an explanation. “You are still the royal prince Sanga, whether dressed in finery or so perfectly nude.”

“It doesn’t feel that way to me,” I say, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“Why do you say that? Konoe, your clothes do not give you power.” 

“But they _do_! They offer me both power and protection!” I insist. “Several princes have treated me differently—much worse—as soon as my clothes have come off!”

“Are you sure? They weren’t treating you as an object or tool to be used, even in the arena? Or even before that, in the ballroom? Certainly, in the arena, I saw the imposter treat you like an animal—collared—with cruelty, setting you up to fail, preventing you from singing in order to humiliate you. The tiger cat was sneakier. He also treated you like an object—in the ballroom—flirting with false smiles and manipulating your feelings when he danced with you.”

I think about the lies Bardo told while walking with me in the garden, pretending to soothe me. Did I misjudge him, even then? Perhaps it wasn’t something _I_ did, either the arena or in his chamber afterward, but something he’d planned all along?

“What about the others? Asato—can you tell me about them?” 

“Well, the orange tabby seems honest and is earnestly interested in his surroundings and you, plus his straightforward manner is obvious in how he talks and interacts with everyone, including the staff. That’s a good thing. The new Meigi Touga—he is hard to read, but I think he is also earnest. He is looking for something or someone specific, I think.”

“Specific?”

“It’s just the impression I get. And the silver cat from Setsura...”

“What about him?” I perk my ears up.

“He is my biggest competition.”

I can’t deny it. I wonder, though—if I’d seen Asato first, would I have liked Rai’s straightforwardness or his flirting? Would I have fallen for those things? Certainly, I do enjoy the attention, but part of me wonders what he is doing with _me_. Does he mean what he says or am I being taken in, again?

“Do you think he is a mistake?”

“I think it is your right to choose.”

“He said you were his biggest competition as well,” I say—and I realize the utter ridiculousness of our conversation—I’m naked, currently straddling a naked Asato. Why are we discussing anything else? I’m ruining the moment. “I appreciate your honesty and openness.”

“It’s been very hard for you, hasn’t it? You’ve been very sheltered here.”

“You could say that,” I say, giving him a wry smile.

“Your fathers could have shared what to expect.”

“Such talk is said to instigate desire and taint a new Sanga’s purity,” I repeat a line I’ve heard millions of times during training.

“So does a Sanga become more or less powerful once he pairs with a Touga?” Asato asks.

“Much more, of course,” I say.

“Despite the risk to his purity? In Kira, Sangas choose who they like—without such a ceremony.” I think about this for a moment. If it were such a risk, wouldn’t such a process weaken me? And yet—it’s required.

“Have you... had a Sanga before me?”

“No,” Asato says. “I was quite isolated—even during the mating season. I suffered alone. You will be my first.” 

I’m very quiet for a moment.

“Would you prefer me not to touch you?” Asato asks.

“I could never ask that of you. It’s your privilege and right. You’ve earned it—you’ve worked very hard to come here. What right do I have to deny you?” I ask.

“You did not answer my question, Konoe.”

“If I refuse, I risk a beating from my parents, and they will make me come back to you just the same. Plus the next time, who knows what the following Touga will think if I’ve been whipped? I might be subjugated cruelly by him.”

“Still, you do not answer.”

Deep blue eyes stare up at me. Instead of asking me, I wish he would seduce me. I wish he would make me want him—make me desperate for him. I open my mouth.

“It isn’t that I don’t want you to touch me.”

“What is it that you want?”

I swallow thickly. Can I simply ask?

“I-I w-want you t-to s-seduce me.”

“Seduce you? How?”

“I—I’m not sure. But... what if you simply touch me—until I specifically ask for more?”

I watch Asato’s eyes carefully when I make this request, and his eyes appear suddenly very dark—his pupils enlarge and go wide and round with excitement. That hungry monster appeared again for just a moment! I saw it!

“All right,” he replies, and his voice has gone husky and soft.

“Really?”

“Not until you ask—you want me to make you want it. Can I kiss you?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Anywhere?”

I feel my ears heating up.

“Um, I thought you said you didn’t have much experience—”

But my lips are taken—and stolen might be a better term for the type of kissing Asato does. He definitely “steals” kisses. It starts as a gentle brushing of the lips, pecking my lips, sucking at my top lip, then my bottom lip, nipping lightly, encouraging me to open my mouth, and when I can’t resist, he presses his mouth to mine and his tongue invades me completely. I can’t breathe when he kisses me—I struggle slightly to get a little gasp of breath, but he takes every opportunity as an invitation to explore new territory in my mouth. His tongue brushes against mine, at the back of my throat, and over my teeth.

It’s a dizzying sensation, and I love it.

I make a decision—right now, I’m just going to be _here_ —in the present—enjoying my evening with Asato. Not as a reward for him or as a duty to my kingdom, but because _I want to be here_. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, I tell myself. Just be here, right now, in the present. And I don’t think about anything else.

I purr and sigh when he pulls away, and he rolls me off of him onto my back. I fluff out my fur in surprise, but he is gentle. He is licking my chin and down the length of my throat. I lift up my chin in a submissive pose—a reflexive movement because of how aggressive his kissing is—but he does not bite or nip. He just continues licking me and kissing me, and his hands touch my skin as though they’ve been waiting his whole life to touch me. Like dry ground sucking up water, his body thoroughly enjoys touching me—and I feel it across the connection of the bond we created this afternoon.

Tentatively, I send a short pulse across our connection. Just a short greeting, letting him know I’m still here, waiting, watching, listening. His body freezes for a moment and he glances at my face. He’s reached my nipples and is licking each in turn, which makes loud wet sounds. I try not to be embarrassed, but I can’t help it. My face heats up in spite of my efforts and my ears turn pink.

_You’re blushing. You’re so pretty when you blush._

I look away, flustered by the overt compliment. I don’t know how to take such direct feedback. He is so earnest with his compliments, however—not light and teasing—that I feel I should acknowledge him in some way or at least—

_Thank you._

I still can’t look at him when I thank him, even in my thoughts, but when I flash my eyes at his face, he smiles a genuine smile, and I feel his hands sliding lower, along my waist, toward my tail. He is watching my face as he strokes my tail, and it fluffs out in pleasure.

I wonder, nervously, does he know I need to be prepared?

“You will prepare me, won’t you?”

I’m rolled onto my stomach, gently, as though I am something precious—but he is not waiting for me to ask. It’s all right—he is watching my tail, which is fluffy and bristled and... rather embarrassingly lifted at the base. I can’t see what he is doing, but both his hands are running through my fur, and I feel something damp touching my tail as well. He isn’t preparing me with his fingers—I think he means to... oh, my gods!

“Wait!” I yelp, lifting my torso up, hurting my rib and wincing when I do. 

“Shh. It’s all right, Konoe. I won’t hurt you.” His assurances do _not_ make me feel better—especially when my tail is lifted at the base and my cheeks are spread apart. I feel something warm and wet circles my entrance. He hums softly, and the vibrations from his mouth make me shiver, and it’s just a little bit disgusting.

 _Not_ the feeling—it feels amazing! It’s more the _idea_ of what he is doing that is disgusting. That’s his tongue... right there!

And... he goes to town, eagerly, just like he has been licking the rest of my body. I can feel fangs grazing outside of my body, and it frightens me a little, but I cannot keep my voice quiet. My thighs quiver—and I’m hard and dripping on the bed, eager for more stimulation, eager for his touch. I am begging wordlessly in a short amount of time, and he adds first one finger, and then two.

My back arches and my tail lifts on its own accord, and I don’t understand my own body—and I am loving the sensations and also a little weirded out by them. But when he pushes my legs up, encouraging me to fold my legs up underneath my body, I comply.

He will enter me from behind, I think—and I permit it. I encourage it.

I feel his heat pressing inside me—and it hurts—of course, it hurts—he is bigger than his fingers. But I breathe quietly, deeply and try to relax.

“Please—slow down,” a small begging voice comes out of my mouth.

“Ah—am I hurting you? I’m sorry!” He soothes me immediately.

“Just—touch me more,” I ask—surprised to hear the words coming out of my mouth. And I instantly feel a hand on my tail and another on my dick—both much rougher and a bit clumsier than I expect—but it isn’t really bad. It’s rather endearing, in fact—I know he is trying his best for me, and he is licking my nape, my shoulders, and I feel his fangs grazing me, and his nose is inhaling my scent, and I can tell he is trying to see my face.

He is kneeling behind me, rather than lying on top of me, preventing me from bearing his weight, hoping to save me any pain, and soon, I feel his thighs against my ass. He is covered in a light film of sweat, and he is breathing very hard—and loud—behind me, not making any effort to stifle his response. It’s incredibly arousing—that I would have such an effect on another cat—and I find myself responding to his arousal.

“You feel so warm and soft inside, Konoe...” his voice purrs—but while his voice is soft, it isn’t really gentle. I hear a wildness that I haven’t heard before—like he wants to devour me and he is holding himself back. It frightens me and thrills me in equal measures. He does allow me a moment to adjust, but his hands keep moving—touching my body all over—not shying away from any part of my body, including my entrance, which sends shivers up my spine and down my tail, which is swaying rather wantonly—unseemly and inappropriately for a royal, I am sure—making a shameless display of itself all on its own.

However—considering what we are doing, I suppose it is natural for my body to behave in this manner, and I simply allow it, especially since I am unable to control it. And when Asato starts thrusting his hips, he does not start slowly—he simply goes for what feels the best, moving with abandon, sending shivers down my spine and bristling my fur.

The sounds that come out of my mouth simply cannot be helped. At first, I try to stifle them, against my arms or the mattress, but I find I cannot get enough air back in my lungs if I do that. So instead, I turn my head to the side and lower my upper torso to the bed, rather than remaining upright on all fours. And when I move like that, arching my back just slightly—and he thrusts inside me—he runs over that spot inside me that makes me see stars.

It’s almost too much—and I wheeze with pleasure. Asato stops his movements, probably afraid he has hurt me.

“Konoe! Are you all right?”

Embarrassed, but glad for a chance to catch my breath, I take a short rest.

“Y-yes. It feels really good, just like that. It merely surprised me.” 

My ears are licked with a wet tongue, and I hear a quiet growl behind me. He starts moving again and whispers, “Arch your back. I want to hear it more.”

I obey—I sort of have to obey him, after all—but I find I _want_ to—blood and pleasure are pooling in my hips and I want to find an outlet for all of it. I arch my back and meet his thrusts with my hips, and I draw my claws reflexively against the mattress. Sounds spill from my mouth and I close my eyes—and I open my ears.

His mouth spills a growl and huffing in pleasure. He is very close to climax, and he is waiting for me. So—I oblige and open our connection to let him feel what I am feeling. I see that familiar warm glow spill from my fingers in slim tendrils of light, stretching behind me to the cat currently taking me, and a gentle but desperate song fills the air. 

That great surge of pleasure comes near and my ear is bitten—only lightly, I think, almost to signify possession—and I release—letting go of the tension in my body. It spills through my limbs and shakes me to my core, shivering through me at a frightening pace—and the growl at my ear intensifies, scaring me and heightening the sense of wildness in this particular act. More than any other Touga, Asato’s connection to nature becomes clear in our connection.

He releases inside me at the same time—and I experience his climax as well. He sees me as something beautiful—as something perfect and pristine—something he is not deserving to have or touch but has yet attained. And that brings tears to my eyes, for that is not at _all_ what I am. I feel slightly dirty—used, in fact—during this act—more like a piece of property to be sold or wares to be sampled. But he sees our connection as the culmination and completion of our connection in the arena.

And he is happy—so satisfied and pleased—that thrills me.

I find my eyes flooded and overflowing with tears when he finally stops moving. When he pulls out of my body, I give a small little moan, and a little sob comes out of my chest. My song fades along with the light as well. 

“Ah—did I hurt you?” He sounds devastated. If our connection was open on his end, he should know he didn’t, but my tears are probably confusing.

He plops down on the bed next to me, utterly exhausted, all tension relieved from his face, except slight concern in his forehead because of my tears.

I reach my exhausted fingers up to his forehead and rub it lightly, trying to rub away his concern. 

“It’s because I didn’t wait for you to ask, isn’t it?” 

“N-no. I _did_ ask. You saw me asking—my body asked. You saw correctly. I am fine.”

“Why are you crying then?” 

“With our connection—I could see how _you_ see me, and I do not feel the way you see me. I feel... very different.”

“I think you are perfect, and you are so beautiful.” 

“I know that is what you see. And I think you may be mistaken.”

“You cannot see what I see. You only know what you have been told, and your parents had a reason to keep you in the dark. But you _are_ powerful and beautiful, and perfect.” He smiles warmly at me. “That was perfect. Do you need anything? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Oh—a towel? I’ve made rather a mess of you.” 

He jumps out of bed and grabs a towel. He wipes me down with it, again much too roughly, considering what has just happened to my body, but I do appreciate his kindness. I allow it. I’m exhausted, though.

He cuddles up in bed and pulls me against his chest so I am facing him, nuzzling my ears, inhaling my scent. I drift off into a restless sleep almost immediately—surrounded by the gentle floral scent and his strong supportive arms. 

I do  _not_  think about making choices between this gentle black cat and the silver one I know is waiting for me. I’m wracked with guilt about singing for Asato—but I couldn’t help it. And I know Rai could hear my song. I choose not to think about how hearing that song—my being overcome with pleasure caused by another—might have made him feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asato heads back to his room after caring for Konoe, and Konoe readies himself for dinner. Rai meets him and walks him there, telling him he'd do well to choose either him or the black cat--which irritates Konoe. He hates the whole process since he realizes he doesn't mind Asato.
> 
> Dinner goes well, except Konoe is angry with his parents. Leaks offers Konoe some more drugs, of course, and sends him off to Asato like a prize cow.
> 
> Asato has decorated his room and Konoe loves it. He also plays with Konoe--with a cattail--which Konoe loves. Konoe has a surprise for Asato as well--sending him out of the room, he strips down to nothing but his crown and waits for him on the bed. Asato is pretty pleased. They have sex and it goes well.
> 
> Konoe is a little worried at the end, however. He worries about having to choose between Asato and Rai.


	17. Karou v. Sisa, part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes after a wonderful night with Asato--filled with confusion.
> 
> He heads back to his room and then asks to speak to his dad, asking Shui a little about his experience with the Touga selection process. It becomes clear to him why he was sheltered from things after Shui shares some of his experiences.
> 
> Today is Tokino's day--from the merchant city of Karou. Tokino is quite cheerful and announces he has a surprise for the little Sanga Prince. He also is a little forward in the dressing room, much to Konoe's surprise.

I sleep well and wake in the morning to some gentle grooming to my tail. It’s so sensitive, but I can’t exactly resist after remembering where I am. When I open my eyes, the morning light is flooding into the room, and the beautiful flowers are scattered everywhere, filling my nose with their subtle scent.

Then what actually happened last night dawns on me—and though I know all of this was inevitable—ordained, sanctioned, and even prescribed by my country—all of the Tougas knew what they were involving themselves in when they signed up—I can’t help feeling massive amounts of guilt. Because the feelings I have for _this_ Touga—this child-like monster, filled with nothing but tenderness and honest feelings, not a trace of deceit in him—well, there is no mistaking them for what they are, and it frightens me.

And worse, I allowed myself to spend the night. I _wanted_ to spend the night. I don’t want to leave this bed, but I’m afraid to touch him anymore, for fear of what might happen if I do. He won’t be able to hold back and may attack me again.

It’s true, part of me is still frightened of whatever it was that I felt inside of him—that monstrous thing that wants to devour me and tear me to pieces. But after spending the evening in his arms, I can’t imagine it’s anything more than his desire manifest in a terrifying way. If he too has lived alone and isolated, I can identify with that. It's no wonder his desire has manifest in such an odd way. And his touch is slightly clumsy, but I found it endearing just the same—the way he boldly gave himself to me, the way he took from me what he wanted.

He isn’t like Rai. He feels softer and younger just beneath the surface of the skin—even vulnerable. And not just vulnerable to me—able to be vulnerable before others. I like that.

I have never experienced pain quite like this before, and I’m confused and angry—even as I’m being so tenderly groomed. I have to work to relax, to make sure I don’t take my anger out on him. If I had seen him first… I don’t know. Perhaps he would have hurt me. Before this ordeal, I knew nothing of the sex act itself, thanks to my parents. I wonder, in part, if Papa Leaks having the Tougas draw straws had something to do with why Rai was chosen to go first. Of course, Rai carries himself confidently—even if he had no experience, he would have made himself familiar with the act and he would have prepared himself appropriately. He decorated my room in white flowers—all of my favorites—meaning, he must have asked the staff. Yet, when the time came, he was gentle enough with me to let me call the shots. In retrospect, he trusted me and his skill (or do I mean prowess?) to do the work for him, that I would indeed be back for more. 

I don’t think Asato would have been able to wait—I think he would have asked for what he wanted, and I wouldn’t have been able to say no. I would have been stressed, unrelaxed, and unprepared—and perhaps Papa knew this. And he “arranged” the straws to be drawn in the exact way they were drawn. I think he knew of Shiki’s tendencies, but not the extreme of them.

The last I saw of my fathers, they were upset by my injuries—both Shiki and Bardo have been unbearable. And from what I know, Dad had to deal with none of this. But I think they both recognize this for what this is: sanctioned rape within my own home. No wonder I have been raised so sheltered. I was angry with them before. But now, I guess I realize: what choice did they have? Tell me and risk having me run away or become even more frightened? That would have made things worse—telling their son that on after his sixteenth birthday he would be expected to hand his body over to five complete strangers who were bigger than him and expected to submit fully, hoping for the best. I suppose in some ways it was better to be surprised, and pleasantly so when a Touga treated me like Rai and Asato have treated me.

And perhaps Dad was going on his own experience. Maybe I need to ask him.

“Asato,” I whisper, “thank you for a wonderful evening.” I try to ignore the tears burning in my eyes. For now, I am going to put the feelings I have for this amazing cat aside, squeezing them into a small box to think about them later. I have to consider my next Touga, Tokino, today, and I want to talk to Dad first.

I turn around in the bed, facing him—stunned as always by the honest, ocean blue eyes, and gasp slightly. He is beautiful. I can so easily imagine waking up beside him every morning.

“It was my pleasure, Konoe. You are special—do not let anyone treat you as anything other than precious.”

I nod my head, smiling somewhat wrily. What choice do I have? What power do I hold? 

“I must speak to my father and prepare for the rest of the day. I will see you at breakfast, though.”

“You see the orange-haired cat today, don’t you? He seems cheerful all the time.” 

“He does,” I say, half-heartedly, sitting up in the bed. What did I do with my clothes? Then—what I did yesterday—stripping off all my clothes but my crown, mimicking that horrible fake painting—comes back to me. My ears fill with heat. How embarrassing! How could I have been so bold?! My clothes are on the chaise, so I’ll have to get up to fetch them.

“Your ears are pink. Are you quite all right?” Asato asks—and he sounds as though he asking about my health and well-being.

“Oh, y-yes,” I stammer, being sure not to make eye contact as I slide out of bed, wandering to the chaise. “I was only embarrassed when I remembered how my clothes ended up over here.”

“Konoe, you are truly the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”

If anyone else had said this, I would take it with a grain of salt. But this is Asato—so I look up. He seems utterly sincere and means every word.

“What you did for me—last night—wearing your crown and nothing else—” reminding me as though I _could_ forget it! “—no one has _ever_ done something for me like that before. It made me feel so special. I know you are a shy creature when it comes to your body—perhaps because you have been raised to be ashamed of your nudity. But you are so beautiful, so perfect. Seeing like that… I will never forget it. Thank you—especially because I know you had to go out of your comfort zone to do such a thing for me.”

I’ve pulled on my underwear and black silk shirt and am buttoning it. Looking at Asato, I realize he really means what he says and I give him a sincere nod.

“You’ve come all this way,” I say, wiggling into my breeches. “It was the least I could do.”

“It wasn’t the least!” Asato insists. “Let me thank you properly!”

“Um, then… you’re welcome.” I lower my eyes and put on my boots. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, the room decoration, the playtime, your tenderness, everything. It was perfect. I enjoyed myself very much.”

Asato nods, and I slip out the door and rush to my own chambers. My staff is already waiting for me—a variety of curious looks on their faces, and I send them all but Jacques away—giving instructions to fetch my dad. 

After a quick bath and wound care, Jacques helps me dress in shades of aqua and tan today—I’ve noticed those are Tokino’s preferred colors. My wounds are much better.

Soon, there is a knock at the door, and I call out, “Enter!”

It’s Dad—he has not brought Papa with him, for a change.

“Jacques, I’m finished with your services today."  
  
“Your Grace—your hair still needs styling—”

“I will do it,” Dad says, an easy smile on his face. “Go have breakfast. You're dismissed. Thank you, Jacques.”

He bows on his way out, upset he won’t hear any gossip. Dad picks up the brush and runs it through my unruly hair. It feels so comforting.

“Good morning, my child. How was last night?”

“It was wonderful. But that isn’t why I asked you here. I wanted to know about your own experience with the selection process. You don’t need to tell me details or names—but were there Tougas who were cruel to you?”

“Ah. I see,” Dad says. “In my day, things were slightly different. I didn’t grow up as sheltered as you—I was supposed to, you see—but I was a rebellious child. I learned things on my own because I went into heat before the selection process started. I met your mother then—in fact, you were conceived at that time.”

“Really?” I’m shocked.

“Yes—we were both quite young, and she was from a good family. They were pleased to have sent her to the castle during the season. She was beautiful and intelligent. So when I was given to the selection process of the Tougas, I was uninterested. I already had a life partner, I thought.”

“I see.” I can only imagine. This is probably why they chose to keep me so sheltered. To help me avoid the same heartbreak, perhaps?

“We wanted to make sure your heat came after the process—and you can enjoy it with the partner you choose. As it was, your mother was too young to bear a child. But I did fulfill my duties to all the selected Tougas. I can be quite charming when I have to be.”

“I’m sure.” I don’t want him to go into detail about this, though. “But… was anyone downright cruel to you?”

“Not like they have been with you. Although, I didn’t bond with anyone, either, right off the bat, as you did with Rai. I think that caused a rift to develop right away and some of the Tougas saw Rai as impossible competition. They figure you’ll never bond with them that way anyway, so they don’t even try. I know that’s what Shiki did. And Bardo—I don’t know what or if he was thinking. I think he was just too tempted by the idea of you not being able to resist his advances you took advantage of you.”

“So all your Tougas were kind?” I confirm.

“No. The one from Meigi didn’t want to be there in the first place. He actually didn’t have _any_ interest in being a Touga. He was a sorcerer, and all he wanted to do is practice his sorcery and learn more, and he wanted nothing to do with a whimsical Sanga like me. He even knew about your mother. When I met him, I found his dark nature intriguing, and we bonded quite well. I actually threw myself at him.”

“Dad! Really?”

“Yes—I couldn’t help it. While I thought your mother was attractive, I had never felt what I felt for this sorcerer for another person. I ended up choosing him, much to his irritation. Of course, he is your Papa Leaks. He thought the entire process of Touga/Sanga selection was ridiculous and cruel—for the Touga, but especially for the Sanga. He loved your mother, too—but she died in childbirth. He couldn’t save her, as much as he tried. And as you know, you were born without breath, blue—and he breathed his lifeforce into you—which is why you ended up with so many of his characteristics. He didn’t want you to suffer this process—he even said that the idea of keeping a Sanga chaste doesn’t affect his power, but I couldn’t figure a way out of it. We need resources from another country to prosper. In the end, he came round.” 

I’m shocked. I’d always thought it was Papa Leaks who insisted I do the selection process, that I keep myself chaste and pure. But it’s been Dad all along? Or our culture? I’m not sure what to think.

I’m still angry about it—especially because Papa whipped me. I was being quite bratty at the time. I mean, we had invited these Tougas here. The least I could do would be to sing for them. But why do I have to sleep with them?

“Dad, is there a reason I have to sleep with the Tougas as well? Wouldn’t the process work just as well if I sang for them?” 

“It might—but I’m not sure you’ve noticed yet. You can see how they see you when you are physically intimate with them. They become more vulnerable in a way they aren’t in battle. I know it seems strange, but that is actually for _your_ benefit. You can see a side of them that you wouldn’t normally be able to see.”

Still. It’s awfully fast. Awfully intrusive.

“How was last night? The Kiran? He was quite taken with you. I only worried that he didn’t have much experience of his own,” Dad asked. 

“It was good,” I say neutrally.

“Just good?”

“Well, quite good. Now… I’m not sure who to choose. If he had gone first, I might be more attached to him than Rai.”

“Ah,” Dad says. “I’m sorry. But your heart will decide for you. Don’t worry too much about it.” 

I look in the mirror at Dad’s reflection—he looks confident, mine is confused but still very handsome now, my hair shining like gold—as are my eyes—like molten gold.

“Let’s take you to breakfast.”

He takes my arm and leads me there, and my head is more confused than ever. 

* * *

Breakfast is a blur. I see Nano first. He is dressed in purple today—silk, purple robes—strange. And they look oddly sexy. I never noticed, but he is sexy in a strange way. He moves in a strange, very non-cat-like way, and he doesn’t quite smell like a cat. He also speaks strangely—his voice husky and flat. He says he is looking forward to our encounter tomorrow. He also says he has “dealt with the imposter.” I think he is talking about Shiki, but I hate to even think what that means—though part of me is quite relieved.

I have to admit, it’s _wonderful_ to see Rai—and I softly and demonstratively press my nose against his shoulder. Whenever I’m around him, he just _feels_ right—like he is the _right_ choice. He purrs, pulls out my chair, touches me freely and gently, asks how my night was, and says I will make the right choice for me. 

“As long as you are happy, I will be happy, Konoe,” he says softly. “I consider myself lucky to have come so far and to have spent as much time with you as I have. As always, you know where my room is, and you can always see me—should another suitor leave you unsatisfied. Though if they leave you in tears, I will be waiting at _their_ door to comfort and care for you.”

He seems to know my night with Asato went well. He doesn't say much about it.

I greet Asato with a smile and a press of my nose to his shoulder as well. I don’t stay long—since I was just in his chambers. But he is glowing and he looks great. Then, Dad leads me to Tokino’s table.

Tokino is grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He stands up—and he is taller than I remember—but he bows elegantly.

“I’m thrilled to spend the day with you, Your Grace,” he says—his cheeks slightly flushed. “I have something special planned for you.”

I tilt my head—and I notice he’s lowered his voice so my dad won’t hear.

“Oh? What is it?” I ask, now quite curious.

“If I told you, I’d ruin the surprise. But suffice it to say, try not to  _completely_ exhaust yourself in the arena this morning.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I say, standing up to pour the tea. He allows this, watching me carefully.

He touches my hand gently—the one on the teapot—and murmurs, “You have the most lovely hands.”

I find myself blushing at the compliment—unable to even thank him for it. But I manage to not spill the tea.

We finish breakfast and head down to the changing room. I strip off my vest and wait for him to change. He is much bigger than he looks up close—all muscle up top, broad shoulders—much wider than mine and surprisingly much taller than me, too—and muscular legs.

He gives me a small wicked smile.

“Like what you see, Your Grace?”

“Oh—I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be looking…”

“You most certainly _should_ be!” Tokino says, walking a little closer to me, before putting his shirt back on. “This body will be yours today, sir. Look all you like. Touch, too, if the mood strikes.”

I’m sitting on a bench, leaning up against the wall, and he leans in toward me, both his large arms rather intimidatingly surrounding me, his fists landing on the wall with a bang behind me, making my fur fluff out.

“You are adorable with your fur all fluffy. I don’t know how I can be expected to fight with this image of you on my mind. Might I request a small favor from Your Grace before we start—to help get me through this trial?”

His aggressiveness catches me by surprise, but I can hardly refuse. I nod my head slightly.

“A kiss? For luck?”

Instead of answering, I tilt my chin up slightly and close my eyes—and my lips are taken suddenly but gently. His tongue invades my mouth in an instant. He kisses well, a man with experience—and a small hum leaks from me in surprise. It’s not unpleasant—just a surprise. He pecks the outside of my lips and then pulls away, then my top lip, my bottom lip, and the delves inside my mouth when I make a small sound, one of his hands coming up on my nape to tilt my head just so to adjust the angle perfectly. He hums delightedly and purrs a gentle, soft purr.

When he pulls away, I’m left with my eyes closed and chin still lifted in expectation, and he kisses my cheeks and nose.

“So sweet! I can’t wait!” I'm pulled up to stand, and I feel a light but obvious brush against my behind as he turns to go out to the arena—and he holds the door for me.”Your Grace?”

I shake my head to clear it and head out into the arena.


	18. Karou v. Sisa, part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tokino and Konoe fight together in the arena and spend the afternoon together on a secret outing.
> 
> Konoe gets caught with dire consequences. This chapter is violent and triggering, and I've left a summary in the notes at the end. His parents are really unreasonable and inconsistent.
> 
> Trigger warning: uncomfortable scene for Konoe (stripping), awkward flirting, parental abuse (non-con spanking with hairbrush and cane)

Tokino is surprisingly light on is feet. His moves are nothing like the moves of the other Tougas—he is a smaller breed of cat than any of them, shorter, well-built and very well-trained, and I find my song flows smoothly for him. It also sounds different for him than it did for Rai, Asato, or Bardo. His tune is lighter and clearer—almost a friendlier song. It matches his looks and personality.

He forges a bond with me immediately—and opens our communication.

— _Hey, there, sweetheart_.—

I breathe in a quick little breath of surprise. I always get the first word of communication, but this makes me wonder if he’s partnered with a Sanga before.

— _Hi. Have you done this before? Partnered with a Sanga, I mean?_ —

— _For practice, yes. In Karou, we train with older, experienced Sangas so we learn what it feels like and won’t be surprised when you comb through my dirty thoughts.—_

Looking a little surprised, he glances at me just briefly, and he is smiling. 

— _By the look on your face, you’ve only recently started pairing with Tougas. I still feel awful about what the pretender Meigi did to you. If the legitimate Meigi hadn’t already taken care of him, I would have kicked his ass, but he had a point. You look adorable in a collar. Did you like it?—_

Another shocked gasp drips from my mouth, but I don’t break my song.

— _Are you trying to distract me?—_

_—I can’t exactly help my thoughts. We didn’t get training on how to focus our thoughts, though I hear they do that in Ransen and Setsura.—_

So Rai had some training to shield his thoughts from me if he chose to use it. And he didn’t, or he could have faked it. I’ve had enough practice to know how to keep my thoughts from leaking across the lines of communication. 

_—You really are adorable, you know. Of course, you know. You’ve probably had people fawning over you since the day you were born. So I have to be more specific in my compliments so you will remember them and also so you will know I’m being sincere.—_

He is smiling again—that cheerful smile that rivals the noonday moon of light, sparkling into his aqua blue eyes, showing just a little mischief I’ve never noticed before. And my own cheeks feel strange, almost numb. I’m smiling also—I’ve been smiling this whole time, too! What? At his rude remarks? His smile is catching—but still!

I am exhausted after just three rounds—I could probably last for one more, and Tokino is still active on his feet. I protest with a whine when Papa stops the test, telling me to get some rest before dinner. 

“Papa, I could do a little more…”

“Konoe, you did plenty. I think Tokino has a feel for your bond and you worked very well together. You protected your Touga with all you had. We have been working you hard the last few days, and I’m sure he doesn’t want you exhausted. Am I right?”

Tokino is at my side, helping me stand—I haven’t yet collapsed to the ground, and he nods his head.

“You did wonderfully. Never have I paired with a Sanga who filled me with power as you did. Your song is music to my ears, my heart, my soul—I love it. But it’s enough.” Then, he lowers his voice. “Remember what I said? I didn’t want to exhaust you.” 

“You will care for him? And we will see you at supper.” Papa dismisses us rather brusquely. I notice he is looking pale.

The moment Tokino walks me off the field, he scoops me up in his arms bridal style. I yelp in protest—thinking very much I’d like to walk.

“You’re coming with me, and you need to save your energy,” he whispers into my ear, and then he licks the tip—and his tongue feels so different—softer than Rai’s or Asato’s, smaller and more gentle. It makes me shiver. It also makes me stop fighting him for a little while. He takes me to his room—another guest chamber in my castle with which I’m unfamiliar. The decor is a sunny yellow accented with blue—oddly appropriate for this Touga, and he’s added fresh flowers to the room as well.

He sets me down on a chair and takes of my boots carefully, keeping his eyes glued to my face.

“You are adorable,” he murmurs softly. “You have no idea how impatiently I’ve been waiting for this day with you. I hated that I drew the last straw—especially after watching how easily you paired with the Setsuran. He seems like a great match for you. But I think I can offer you things that he can’t.”

“Wh-what are you going t-to d-do t-to me?” I ask nervously.

“Nothing bad. Just care for you till you get your strength back. I’ve noticed you lose your strength after singing. It’s tempting to do whatever I want to you—but I would never do anything that you didn’t want.” He smiles up at me—that mischievous and cheerful smile. How is it that I never saw its mischievous nature before today? He seemed so innocent. And yet—he’s paired with Sangas before? What else has he done, I wonder? “Let’s get your body cleaned up—and you should change your clothes for what I have planned.”

He doesn’t wait for my consent—just peels off my stockings, while watching me carefully, and I notice his fangs bare slightly as he does. And he goes for my belt next—without removing it—simply unbuckling it—and then unbuttons my breeches, wiggling them off my hips.

“Powerless. Completely at my mercy, aren’t you?”

I blush when he reminds me.

“It doesn’t matter whether I have physical power here or not,” I say. “I’m supposed to submit to you in any case. In some ways, isn’t it easier for me if I don’t have the physical energy to resist?”

“I don’t think so,” Tokino replies, moving to my blouse next, unbuttoning each button rather slowly. “I rather like seeing that strong will of yours submit itself to mine. You can’t do that if you don’t have the physical strength to submit, can you?”

I look away—or try to—but he keeps his gaze on me, tilting my face up toward his, still smirking slightly.

“Tell me—are you frightened?”

“Wouldn’t you be, in my position?”

“I’m not sure,” Tokino says. “I might be—but I think a part of me might be sort of thrilled.”

A little shudder rushes through my still-paralyzed body—one he notices and can feel—and I am extremely ashamed that he can read me so easily.

“You see, I think you have a bit of a masochistic streak in you, Konoe. You may not know it—or acknowledge it, due to lack of experience—”

Immediately I think of the horrible experience with Shiki and I deny it.

“I do not!”

“I don’t mean you like others taking advantage of you or when others openly abuse you. I mean only that I think you don’t mind giving up a little control and power in the bedroom. I think you find it soothing.”

I am quiet for a moment. I can’t deny his words.

“I’d bet you’ve had a few confusing moments this week—even in the midst of the abuse you’ve suffered—your body responding to things you thought you hated—or responding despite how much your mind resisted. Am I right?”

Again, I can’t speak. How does he know this?

“Oh, servants overhear all kinds of lurid details, and I have a friendly face and know how to ask to get the answers I want,” Tokino smiles again—and he has such a winning smile. I’d tell him anything he wants to know, too. “Mind you, I don’t think this means you enjoy abuse. I think this means you’d enjoy bondage when practiced safely.”  
  
“Bondage?” The word accidentally slips from my mouth—I don’t mean for it to, and it happens just as my shirt is slipped from my shoulders, leaving me in my underwear.

Tokino hums with pleasure.

“But not when you are unable to move. You can’t consent now. So for now, I will only clean up your body, all right?”

“All right,” I say softly. I don’t have a choice, after all.

“I may kiss you as well. Is that all right? I may not be able to help myself.” He strips off my underwear, leaving me completely naked even before we enter the bathing chamber, and I blush furiously and look away—realizing I can’t escape his view, so I end up simply closing my eyes.

“As if closing your eyes will hide your body from my view. That’s really cute,” Tokino purrs. “I love it—this innocent act of yours.”

It’s not an act! I haven’t been allowed to be nude or event touch myself before this week!

“I know what you’re thinking,” he continues, putting me down on a showering stool, while he strips out of his clothing. He isn’t as large as the other cats who have taken me, but he has a very nice body, and he isn’t shy about it. “You’re thinking, ‘It isn’t an act! I really am innocent!’ But keep in mind, I have seen you not only the night before you are taken back to your chambers and also the morning after—and your voice has a unique characteristic. I don’t know if it works like this for the others, but I can _hear_ you. Even from here—in my chambers. Your voice echos in my heart—those songs you sing. Especially that one you sing for the Setsuran cat. You've seen him more than once, haven't you? There’s nothing innocent in that song—begging him to fuck you.”

I blush from my belly to the tips of my ears when I hear him say this, and I cannot look up. 

“It’s not a bad thing—it makes you terribly sexy, in my eyes. Don’t be ashamed. Just… be more honest with yourself and your desires. They are perfectly natural, after all.”

Kissing my ears, he pulls my chair under the water, and it feels good to let it run over my back and shoulders. He shampoos my hair and uses the conditioner upon my request. He scrubs my body from head to toes, and I notice he is watching my expression every time I open my eyes. It feels nice. He kisses my lips and ears several times, almost chastely, while in the shower.

He dries me off after rinsing me, and then carries me into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel. He pulls a comb through my hair and then I see what he plans to dress me in. They are commoner’s clothing. I’ve never worn such things.

“What is this?” I ask, trying not to sound offended.

“We are going on an outing,” Tokino says. “You can’t be too dressed up where we are going.”

“An outing?” My ears perk up a little. Really? I’m sort of excited. I am already gaining back some feeling in my arms and legs, and I help get myself dressed.

“I thought you might like to see your kingdom,” Tokino says. 

“Oh! I would! Very much!” I can hardly stand my excitement. “But… how are we going to get out of the castle?” I'm not allowed outside. In fact... should I go? I shouldn't, but staying here or resisting would be disobeying him. He is my Touga, after all. Papa would punish me, wouldn't he? And surely, I'm old enough to see my kingdom!

“I’ve worked it all out. Don’t worry about a thing. As long as you don’t say anything, you will be fine.”

I am wearing casual, coarsely woven trousers and a shirt and cape, plus a soft hat that covers my eyes and hair. I do not look like the prince. Tokino doesn’t look like a prince, either. We sneak outside through the garden and find a back entrance—the servants’ entrance—and head downtown. It seems Tokino has made the acquaintance of several servants already and greets them casually.

I have never been allowed in the city before, and it is crowded with cats! Tokino gives me his arm, which I gladly take, and we visit the marketplace first. I am overwhelmed with all the goods for sale—and surprised at the prices, quite frankly. My subjects must have a hard time affording a lot of the items for sale. But the craftsmanship is quite good.

Next, we head to a bar, where Tokino orders a few rounds of drinks—kuim cider—which is delicious. It’s strange to be served there just like everybody else, not to be treated specially or served first, and I kind of like it. Tokino lowers the brim of my hat several times, but I notice several cats looking at me just the same.

“Why are people staring at me?” I ask. It’s making me uncomfortable.

“I’m sure they are wondering if you are with me as a partner or if you are available,” Tokino says. “You have an awfully nice shape in those slim-fitting trousers, Your Grace.”

I blush, keeping my face pointed at the table and helping myself to another sip of cider.

“Shall we clear up any questions?” Tokino offers. “So to discourage any unwanted advances?”

“Um,” I begin—but he leans across the table and takes my lips—right there—in public. I’m terribly embarrassed, but also my heart flutters a little. I don’t mind that he takes control like that.

After the bar, he takes me for “entertainment,” he says.

I’ve never heard of such a place for entertainment, but we sit in a large dark theater and are served more drinks—this time something stronger than cider. It’s very dark in here, and it’s all men in the audience, I notice, and in the front of the room, there is a stage, lit with lamps.

The first act is a singer—dressed in the most outrageously complicated dress I’ve ever seen. She is quite lovely—with large breasts and hips—and as she sings, she also starts to remove her clothes, much to my surprise and horror. I’m hoping she doesn’t end up naked.

At first—she removes her gloves, slowly and one at a time—and I think, oh, it must be warm in front of the lights. I look at Tokino and he smiles at me. But then, the outer part of that huge skirt falls off and is flung into the backstage area, and I am shocked. 

“Tokino!” I whisper.

“What is it?” He asks, not looking away from the show.

“H-her outfit!” 

“That is the point, Your Grace.” He looks at me and smiles again.

Next, another layer of the petticoat is shed, leaving a silk slip and top, and then the top comes off, leaving a bustier on top. She is still wearing her heels and stockings. The silk slip comes off, too, and the heels and one stocking at a time—leaving revealing panties that show her behind when she turns around. She removes her bustier as well, but she still has a feather boa to cover her breasts.

When the song ends, she flings her panties into the audience—much to my horror—and she is on stage wearing just the feather boa. But she hasn’t shown her private parts or her nipples. My gods!

I’m sitting in my seat, covering my mouth in complete outrage.

“Are you all right, Konoe?” Tokino puts his hand on the one I’m not using to cover my shocked expression.

“What _is_ this place?” I ask.

“It’s a bordello club,” Tokino says. “Where gentlemen come to enjoy themselves. Are you enjoying yourself?” His hand slips off my hand and onto my knee, sliding up higher and higher toward my groin—as though to check for himself. 

“Stop!” I hiss, embarrassed that he will find that I did, indeed, enjoy the show.

“I think you may be enjoying yourself a little more than you’re letting on,” he chuckles. “You may enjoy the next show even more. Miss—two more cocktails, please!”

He just ordered more drinks?? There’s another show? I’m shocked.

“I want to leave,” I say. “I’m very uncomfortable.”

“I can tell that you are, and I will take care of that later,” Tokino says. “But sometimes delaying arousal will extend your pleasure.” 

“That’s _not_ what I meant!” I hiss again.

“Don’t you wish to know how your people live, Your Grace?” Tokino asks sweetly. I really dislike how he is calling me “Your Grace” so openly. What if someone hears him? “Shut your mouth, Your Grace, and enjoy your cocktail. I think the next act will suit your taste even more.”

The next act isn’t a singer. There is music, and it’s a dancer, but it’s a male—a slim, well-shaped male—and he’s small with golden blonde hair. In fact, he has white ears and a tail that are caramel tipped. He comes out wearing royal-looking attire. It takes me a moment to realize but... Is he supposed to be me?

He gets a lot of applause—even more applause than the first act. He goes by The Prince.

“Oh, my gods,” I whisper, lowering my face.

“I don’t think the coloring on his fur is real,” Tokino remarks. “But aren’t you flattered? Look at his hips!”

The cat on stage is young and agile, and he moves well—sexy and fit—he flirts with his audience—and he strips off his clothes as well, throwing his clothes into the audience. I’ve never felt so ashamed in all my life. Is this how the public sees me?

“Is this _frivolity_ really what the public thinks of me?” I whisper.

“Now, don’t take offense,” Tokino replies softly. “I think it’s meant to flatter you.”

Like that nude painting of me that Asato saw was meant to flatter me? I’m not sure how I feel—not when the dancer casts his royal robe away, or tears the buttons of his shirt to pull it from his chest. Nor when he pulls his trousers magically from his hips and strips down to practically nothing—to underwear with no coverage in the back.

“He’s not as cute as you are, Konoe,” Tokino says. 

I gulp down the rest of my drink.

“Can we leave now?” I ask almost desperately. I’m close to tears. 

“Konoe?”

I stand up and leave, and Tokino follows.

I have no idea where I am, but I trying not to cry in the street.

“Konoe—I thought it would be fun—I thought it would be an enlightening little experience for you!” Tokino is saying, grabbing my arm and I wrench out of his grip. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

“You knew?! You’ve seen him before?”

“He’s the most popular act here, yes. And we have acts like him in my country, too. You’re famous, after all. No one knows exactly what you look like—except from others’ descriptions—and that you are very lovely. And you are envied. Rich, beautiful, powerful. It’s probably why you are so sheltered.”

I do break down in tears now.

“Come, come. It’s not so bad. They love you. They think you are wonderful.”

“They think my body is wonderful. They don’t know me!” I protest.

“Not yet—but they will, and they will adore you then,” Tokino says. “Don’t cry. Let’s go back.”

Tokino leads me back the way we came, and we sneak back in through the servants’ entrance. I head to my room alone, some time to prepare and get myself together before dinner, and I’m surprised to find my parents waiting for me, having dismissed my servants.

“Dad, Papa—what are you doing here?” I ask, surprised.

“Konoe. Where have you been?” Dad asks. Shit. He’s used my name. And Papa is fuming.

“Ah—I was with Tokino. He, um, had a small surprise for me.”  
  
“What are you wearing?” Dad asks.

“Oh—it’s, um—well, Tokino prepared it for me.”

“Konoe. Did you leave the castle grounds?” Papa asks.

“Well, um—Tokino, um—he, ah…”

“ _Did_ you?” Papa asks again, more harshly this time.

“Dad! I _had_ to! Tokino prepared this surprise for me! He told me to come with him, and it’s up to me to obey him, isn’t it?” I plead desperately.

“Konoe—you _know_ the rules! You are _not_ permitted to leave the castle!” Dad says. He is obviously disappointed.

“But what would you have me do? _Disobey_ my Touga? _Resist_ him? You told me I’d be _whipped_ if I disobeyed, so I had no choice!” I am begging now.

“Obviously, if something like this were to come up—in which a Touga were to ask you to do something against how you were raised, you should have come to us!”

“Papa! You are telling me this _after_ what Shiki and Bardo did to me!? After you sanctioned what Shiki did to me!? And you let that old man have his way with me when I couldn’t defend myself!?”

“Unfortunately, Bardo and Shiki were both within their rights—”

“Shiki was an imposter!” I shout. “He wasn’t even the rightful Touga and he _humiliated_ me, caused me so much pain I can’t even _describe_ it! And you did _nothing_ to protect me! You just handed me over! You didn’t even tell me what to _expect_! And you’re upset that I obeyed Tokino?!”

“Lower your voice,” Papa growls. “Konoe, you were out of bounds and out of line. Granted, we didn’t know about Shiki. If we had, we _never_ would have let you go with him. He had the appropriate papers with him and we vetted him. We made a mistake!”

“And I made a mistake by obeying Tokino,” I return.

“No, that was deliberate disobedience,” Dad says. “I’m very disappointed in you. I know you are almost at the end of your trial, and I thought we could make it through the rest without incident, but apparently, you have _not_ learned what you needed to learn.”

“And what is that, Dad? That I have to submit to _both_ you _and_ my Touga? Whose wishes come first??”

“Your own _kingdom’s_ come first— _always_.” Both Papa and Dad speak in unison, and my ears flatten. I realize there is no getting out of this.

“And it’s my country’s will that I stay locked up in this castle _forever_?”  
  
“Not forever, Konoe, but until you have a permanent protector, yes,” Dad says. “You are _not_ safe. Not even in this ridiculous disguise.”

“Bend over the chair, Konoe. I’m sorry it’s come to this. But you _knew_ what would happen if you defied us.”

“Papa! _Please_!” I do not obey, but get on my knees and beg for all I’m worth, tears flowing from my eyes. “I did what I thought was best! What would please you both! I’m sorry I made the wrong choice!”

“I know you are sorry. It’s my job to make sure this doesn’t happen again. You learn very well from physical consequences. Get up off your knees and bend over the chair now.”

“Please, no! Not before tonight! _Please_! I won’t be able to—”

“Konoe, if I have to ask you again, and your punishment will be more severe.”

“Dad— _please_ —”

“Gods damn it, Konoe! What I have told you about trying to wheedle your father!” Papa growls. I feel my body lifted up violently and pushed up over the chair, knocking the wind from my lungs. Additionally, my belt is unbuckled and pants are unbuttoned, jerked down around my knees, exposing me shamefully. I cry out in mortification.

“Please—please don’t do this! Not today!”

“You made your choice when you disobeyed!” Papa says again. “What exactly did you think would happen?”

“I thought you’d whip me if I disobeyed _Tokino_!” I wail. “What choice did I have, Papa? _Please_!” I’m already sobbing, fat tears dripping down my cheeks.

“Do you need to excuse yourself?” Papa asks Dad.

“No, I should stay,” I hear Dad murmur, much to my surprise. “He is my responsibility, too, after all.”

Instead of a whip, I feel a hard smack on my ass—it’s loud, and it jerks my hips forward against the chair and jiggles the flesh of my bottom. It’s not a hand, either—it’s much too hard for that. It feels like the back of a hairbrush! 

I cry out loud as soon as the strokes rain down on me, one right after the next, and I try to escape them, struggling away, trying to cover myself, but my hands are bound by Papa’s magic, keeping me restrained against the chair. My tail waves helplessly, wisely staying out of the way of the brush.

Each stroke hurts more than the last—it heats up my skin and burns, exciting the nerves and extending the pain further than just where the brush connects with my skin. The smacks against my sit spot hurt the worst, making me want to kick up my feet instinctively, but it feels like my feet are glued to the floor as well—probably more of Papa’s magic.

“Please—enough— _please_ , Papa!” I’m screaming, begging, crying—unable to stop my shameless pleading, tears soaking the fabric of the chair—which is velvet, and I’m sure I am ruining. 

“You need to learn,” Papa says, and I hear his voice making an effort through the force of his blows, “to submit your will to the will and demand of your country’s—and to our demands, to your Touga’s and your future husband’s. Konoe, you may _not_ do whatever you please!”

“I-I w-wasn’t!” I wail. “I-I w-was o-obeying T-Tokino!” I continue protesting my innocence, stupidly. “I-I o-only w-went out o-of the c-castle b-because I-I w-was i-invited and I-I th-thought I-I’d b-be s-safe w-with h-him!”

“Konoe, even _now_ you don’t understand!” Dad says, frustrated. “We keep you here, protected, safe, for your own good! No one knows you outside of the castle! No one recognizes you because we do not allow you to show your face!”

I know that is a lie because of what I saw in the theatre.

“Th-that’s a l-lie!” I cry—and I am spanked even harder for my insolence, and I cry loudly in response. But I _know_ it’s a lie. Once I catch my breath, I continue. “I-I s- _saw_! T-Tokino t-took m-me t-to a sh-show and I-I s- _saw_ what the p-people think of m-me!” I sputter. 

The spanking stops abruptly, and my chin is raised up from its place on the chair. 

“What do you mean, you _saw_? What kind of _show_?” Dad asks. “What did you see?”

My tears continue, and I am sobbing and wheezing desperately.

“Choke off those tears and answer your father!” Papa yells, making me flatten my ears and flinch.

Taking a deep shaking breath, I get myself under control.

“He took me to a theater, and I saw a woman perform. She sang and stripped off her clothes.” Both my fathers inhale sharply. “After her performance, a male came out. He was dressed in royal-looking garb, and he had hair and fur the same color as mine—and even his body was shaped like mine. He didn’t sing, but he called himself The Prince, and he danced and stripped almost naked. _That_ is what the people think of me!”

“You went to a show like that?” Papa growls.

“I can’t _believe_ you watched such _filth_!” Dad says. “Your purity was in question just from being in that _room_!”

“I was there with a _Touga_ who _invited_ me!” I shout. “A Touga _you_ sanctioned! I was there because I _obeyed_ him at _your_ command!” Snot is dripping down my face and spit from my chin. I’m pissed now. “He’s not the _first_ to mention I ought not to be _imprisoned_ here at the castle!”

“Imprisoned?” Papa Leaks echoes. 

“You’ve been given _everything_ here!” Dad says. “And all you can do is _complain_ about it! Obviously, you have not yet learned your lesson!”

“Yes, you’ve given me everything!” I sob. “Just like a bird in a gilded cage! Clipped my wings! I know nothing of the world outside! I want _out_ of here!”

“Konoe, you’ve been in this castle too long to be able to live on your own!” Dad rebukes me. “You can’t feed yourself, can’t dress yourself! You’d _starve_ to death in the world outside if someone didn’t kill you first! Don’t be ridiculous!” 

“Prepare yourself,” Papa says quietly, and my body lowers itself back to the chair, and my legs spread a little bit wider. I gasp in surprise and horror—I am not moving my body on my own.

“Please—no more— _please_!” I beg. I am sorry for speaking against them now, of course, now that further punishment is about to come down against me. I close my eyes in fear, expecting that hairbrush to hit me again. But it isn’t the brush this time. A much more narrow pain—sharper, more precise, and clearer pain strikes the crease between my buttocks and thighs. I scream out, a shudder rushing through my body, and fresh tears fall helplessly down my cheeks. 

“Konoe, you’ve earned this,” Papa says, and he sounds almost sad. “Ten strokes.”

The second stroke comes down on my buttocks, and it stings terribly—I can feel it leaving a raised welt behind, leaving my ass jiggling, and I scream again. The third comes down before I’m finished screaming, and the whistling of the cane moves the fur inside my ears. It strikes my ass once again, slightly lower, causing more fresh pain and tears.

The fourth blow lands on my tender thighs—the solid thwack makes my ears twitch and takes my breath away completely before I can cry out in protest. Once I catch my breath, though, the fifth stroke lands just above the fourth, and just below the crease of my buttocks and still on my thighs, and I yell out loud, trying to squeeze my legs together in desperation.

I cannot believe my own father is doing this to me!

I feel faint with the sixth and seventh blows—both striking my ass, leaving fresh welts—and I don’t remember the rest of the punishment. I think I faint dead away from the next blow to my sit spot. The pain seems to creep around to my groin and the front of my hips, making my vision gray out around the edges.

I come to, lying on my bed—nude from the waist down—facedown—and my dad is brushing the hair from my face, trying to soothe me.

“I’m sorry if this seems harsh, Konoe. When you have children of your own, you will understand,” he whispers.

I will _never_ have children of my own, I think. Never! I’d never want to put my child through such an ordeal. I will choose my Touga and escape this kingdom—escape this place—never to return! But I say nothing, simply trying to catch my breath.

A pleasant scent grazes my nose, and a familiar voice touches my ears—is it Rai? But he sounds upset. Who is he shouting at? Papa? I can’t make out what he is saying. But it sounds like Papa is replying to him now.

“You’ve already spent more than your fair share of time with him! You should get your nose out of affairs that don’t concern you!”  
  
“He _is_ my concern! He is my _Sanga_! I consider him my bonded _partner_! I could hear his cries across the palace and I came running! Is he injured? What’s happened?”

“He is fine. He just suffered the consequences of disobedience again. It’s none of your concern. You should leave. Prepare yourself for dinner. It isn’t your evening with him anyway.”

“Please! Let me see him!”  
  
“Rai?” I ask. 

“Shh—Konoe. You know it isn’t his day. You may _not_ see him. You will make things worse for yourself if you see him,” Dad whispers to me. “I’ll tell him for you that you don’t wish to see him.”  
  
“N-no!” I say weakly, trying to sit up. Then, I try calling out. “Please! _Rai_!”

Dad forces me to lie down and sings to me, softly. I feel the power of his song in my heart—he has sung to me many, many times—and I feel drowsy in an instant.

“Please, Dad— _please_! Don't!”

“He is sleeping now—he has exhausted himself. You’ll see him at breakfast, _after_ he has satisfied his commitment to the Karou Touga,” I hear Papa telling Rai.

“What did he do? How did he disobey?”

“I believe I told you. That is _none_ of your concern!”

“I think it is if he is to be my responsibility, don’t you think?” Rai asks.

Papa sighs. “I will tell you if he ends up choosing you. But you may not be the best choice, since you have spent so much time with him at this point. You may have influenced him improperly.”

“I’ve only cared for him as a Touga should,” Rai says. And those are the last words I hear as I drift off to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tokino and Konoe fight well together, and Tokino turns out to be a mischievous flirt--who has paired with other Sangas before. 
> 
> He has a secret plan for Konoe after their successful battle. He sneaks Konoe out of the castle to the city--and Konoe has never been out of the castle before. He knows he's not allowed to go, but also knows he'd be punished for resisting his Touga, so he obeys. He enjoys himself at the market and the bar but is uncomfortable at the bordello-style gentlemen's club. There is even a dancer there called The Prince, who looks like Konoe. And Konoe is appalled and upset, can't believe he's been so sheltered. Neither can Tokino.
> 
> But Tokino feels a little bad and brings him back to the castle with plenty of time before dinner. But lo and behold... the prince finds himself face to face with his parents in his bedroom. And they know he's been out of the castle. And he has to face their wrath and punishment. Konoe defends himself, saying he was trying to avoid punishment by obeying his Touga. They say, nope, do what's best for your kingdom (us) first. And he gets it good. When he doesn't repent, he gets it with both the hairbrush and cane.
> 
> Rai shows up at the door--hearing him cry from across the palace--and can't do anything to help.


	19. Karou v. Sisa, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy time with Konoe and Tokino.
> 
> Dub con due to drugs.

Of course, I miss dinner. It’s fine. I need the rest. When I wake up, I find myself dressed in silk sleepwear—in my own bedroom, of course, with lit candles—which in itself is strange since I don’t keep candles in my room. I dislike fire. But it must mean my parents or staff have set up my room to entertain Tokino this evening. In fact, I feel slightly sluggish when I wake, and I wonder if I’ve been given a potion.

“My gods, Konoe, I am so, so sorry.”

A soft whisper floats into my ear from next to me on the bed—but it’s from behind me since I am lying on my belly to rest my backside. It feels like I am covered, and the silk from the pajamas isn’t hurting my skin, but the pajamas are fairly sheer and I wonder if they maybe don’t cover me very well.

I try to turn my head toward the voice, but Tokino stops me.

“No. Just stay where you are.” His usually soft voice sounds almost commanding. “It’s all right. Just stay as you are.”  
  
I don’t really _mind_ him commanding me. I don’t feel like I need to resist, either, and my body relaxes. It must be a potion, I think. Maybe Papa did manage to make an obedience potion like Shiki suggested I needed.

“You’re fine just as you are. You are beautiful just as you are,” he says softly, running his claws through my hair. “You are gorgeous and sweet—and so obedient. And you have a wonderful voice.” 

My eyes brim with tears when I hear the comment about my voice. I haven't said anything yet. Does this mean he heard that punishment?

“Did you hear me? Um, earlier?”

“I did. And I am sorry. I knew you were suffering for my sake. But I really believed you should see your kingdom. I spoke to your parents at dinner. I was soundly rebuked for allowing you out of the castle—and I nearly lost my privilege to see you this evening. However, I have earned my place here. And I still think a prince has the right and responsibility to see his kingdom.”

He runs his hands through the fur on my ears, and they feel cool and soothing.

“I wanted to have you spend the night in town with me. But your parents would not permit it. I am sorry. And I am so sorry I couldn’t spare you that punishment. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I have no idea you’d suffer because of me. I thought perhaps _I_ would get in trouble but I had no idea _you_ would. You were told to obey me, weren’t you?” 

I nod my head without speaking.

“For gods’ sake, what were you supposed to do? What did they expect you to do? They would have whipped you for disobeying me, wouldn’t they?”

The tips of both of my ears are kissed gently, and his nose softly nudges me. 

“Gods, you smell so nice, Konoe.” I hear him purring in my ears. “I’m pleased with you. You pleased me so much today. I’d do just about anything to bring you home to Karou with me. I think you’re precious.”

The kissing on my ears changes to something wetter when he adds just a little bit of tongue.

“I am awful sorry you were punished this afternoon. I thought I might try to teach you something I’ve learned about you since I’ve been here, watching you this week. But if you’re too exhausted, that’s all right. Are you up to learning something new about yourself, Konoe?” 

My ears twitch slightly at his tone. He sounds very self-assured and confident—not teasing or light. I want to look at him and I try to turn my head again.

“You can stay just as you are. You don’t have to move.”

“I-I want to see you,” I say quietly. I don’t move any further, but I think to ask permission. “M-may I look at you?”

“Of course.”

I turn my head in his direction, slightly confused. Why did he stop me? He doesn't look any different. Did he just want me to ask for permission? I don’t understand.

“You look confused.”

“I-i’m not sure what you want from me.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to discover something new about yourself. Are you interested? It might be something pretty heavy, considering the day you’ve had.”

My tail flicks back and forth. His tone is slightly lower than usual.

“Listen. You don’t have to do this. I’m asking you if you’d _like_ to do this. I’m not forcing you to do anything or even making a request. I thought you might enjoy it.”

“What are you asking me to do?” I ask.

“I think you are the type who might enjoy giving up control in the bedroom, and I like to take control. I think we should give it a try. Why don’t you let me be in charge of everything? You will trust me to take care of you, just like you took care of me in the arena today. I will see to all your needs tonight. All you have to do is submit to what I ask.” 

I glance up at Tokino and blink slowly. Submit? It sounds a little frightening somehow. 

“I already have to do as you say. It’s required that I obey. My parents will punish me if I don’t.” 

“Ah, they'll punish you if you obey, too, won't they? And that... compulsory obedience isn’t what _I_ want,” Tokino says, stroking my cheek. “I want you to _trust_ me. I want you to trust that I have your best interest at heart and that I want you to feel pleasure and enjoy yourself more than anything. And I want you to be responsible for absolutely _nothing_ yourself. This is all on me. I think you will find it liberating.”

“Um. I don’t understand how it’s different than what I already have to do,” I say, slightly stubbornly.  
  
“I know I could just ask you to do what I want. But what I am saying is—I want you to _trust_ me. Do you, Konoe? Do you believe that, more than anything, I want you to be free to enjoy yourself tonight? I want you to just… get off tonight?”

“Get… off?” I ask. I feel my ears heating up. Does he mean…?

Tokino smiles. “Yes. Like that. Just like that. More than anything, I want you to feel incredible pleasure. And that is all. I don’t want to _dominate_ you. But I want you to release all your anxiety and control, give it over to me. You are not responsible for anything that happens in this room tonight. Just give yourself to me. All right?”

I consider for a moment. I don’t understand if this is really a choice for me or something I can really refuse. But it doesn’t sound terrible.

“Um, okay?”  
  
“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I think so?”

“Okay. How are you feeling? Are you very sore? Your parents gave me some balm to apply to your skin. May I do that for you?”  
  
“Okay.”

“First, I’d like you to strip for me. Do you trust me enough to do that?”

“Strip?” I ask nervously.

“Yes.”

“N-not like what we saw today, though?” I confirm, even more nervously.

“Not unless the mood strikes you. Stand up from the bed for a moment.”

I obey. I feel almost hypnotized. I’m dressed in my pajamas, but I’m strangely embarrassed. This is _my_ room—not even his guest room, this is _my_ room—and the prince from Karou is in _my_ bed, and he is making me feel like I don’t belong here!

“Look at me.”

I look up at him instantly, unable to understand why I am doing this. Why am I complying? 

“Remove your shirt. Take your time.”

I untie the ribbon at the neck—and it feels like something inside me is coming untied as well—like I’ve pulled a string inside my heart or my mind and it’s slowly unraveling. When I pull the shirt off over my head, I feel strangely more exposed than I did when I stripped for Asato, and I’m not even nude. Also, it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

“Look at me, Konoe.” His soft voice is still gentle, but I look up again. My gaze has dropped to the ground at my feet. I’m staring at the carpet, the cream-colored plush carpet I feel under my toes every morning when I get out of bed. It’s odd. I’m currently curling my toes into it nervously and it feels foreign. “Now, your pants. Slip them off, too.”

Without really thinking about it, I obey and slip them off, my heart racing. I don’t _have_ to think. I don’t have to do anything except obey. This isn’t something for me to worry about because Tokino is taking responsibility. I’m nude under my pajama bottoms, so now I am naked. It’s nothing to be worried about though—again because Tokino is going to be responsible for this evening—whatever that means. I take a deep breath, in and out, a sigh of relief.

“So _beautiful_. Now, relax and come back into bed. Lie down on your stomach.” 

I obey. And as soon as I lie down, he puts a blindfold over my eyes. It’s a soft piece of silk that ties behind my head. I could easily take it off, but I don’t. There’s no need to. I relax a little more when that soft fabric drapes over my eyes.

“This will just help you to relax and keep you feeling submissive. I’m going to treat these welts now. Just breathe deeply. It will feel better soon, okay?” 

“Hmm.” I hum softly and I feel his hands on my bottom and thighs, smearing a cooling balm across my hot skin. His hands are small compared to the other cats I’ve spent the night with this week, but still much bigger than my own. They are comforting and calm,  very strong, and they feel nice. He feels good. I am purring before long.

“You are doing very well,” he says softly. “You have such a beautiful body, Konoe. I’ve been watching you all week. I’ve been wanting you all week—to have you to myself. Now you are here with me. I’m just going to enjoy you. You can just relax. If I do anything you dislike, you may let me know. Just say yellow if you want me to slow down and red if you want me to stop. All right?”

“Okay.”  
  
“Will you repeat the two words for me?” Tokino asks.

“Yellow to slow down and red to stop,” I murmur.

I’m turned to my side and his hands caress my skin—and I feel his tail on me, too. Short hair but very dense—almost curly, I think—tickles me, and I feel him kiss my lips—gentle and soft at first—like he did in the changing area. But then he kisses me more firmly now, taking a little more each time, and eventually invading my mouth with his tongue, and then he nips my lips, my jaw, my throat, my collarbone, and he glides down toward my nipples.

“You’re being so obedient and compliant for me, kitten,” Tokino murmurs against my chest.

My body heats up very quickly as I feel sharp fangs nipping at my chest and my skin—his hands skating across my body. The vibration of his purr rattles deep within my own body and causes me to purr in response. It’s a nice sensation and it feels good. I gasp lightly when I feel his hands stroking the fur beneath my navel and combing through my tail. I can’t see him coming, so it’s a little bit of a pleasant shock to feel his hands suddenly appear.

But I purr softly and I relax into the touch, I return his kisses and I touch him back—but then he lowers my hands back to my sides. 

“All you need to do is relax, kitten. You don’t need to lift a finger.” 

His tongue is wet and smooth—much more so than Rai’s or Bardo’s or Asato's—and smaller, too. It feels a lot like my own in texture, but larger than mine. And it travels everywhere, making me sigh and shiver and shudder.

“You taste sweet, Konoe.”

I gasp out loud when I feel his fingers stroke my cock, and I hear a soft chuckle.

“So responsive and sexy—gods, your voice is captivating! And your body is so gorgeous, Konoe.”

He fingers my erection almost delicately, letting the hand on my tail flatten out at the base and brush casually over my entrance.

“Come. Get up on your knees for me, kitten.”

I obey, and it feels like he is behind me, stroking my dick from behind and carefully preparing me with lubricant—it’s cold and first and makes me shiver. But he is so very careful and slow—I feel just a twinge of pain.

He moves much faster than I expect for as careful as he is, licking the nape of my neck and my spine—crawling up behind me in the bed and stroking my body—and soon, another finger slips inside me. He squeezes my cock at the rim whenever he scissors his fingers apart inside me, however, and a strange, electrical sensation shudders through my body, starting at the base of my spine.

“I can’t _wait_ to feel inside you,” he whispers. My ears fold down, blushing and embarrassed—and I realize he has been whispering to me the entire time. It’s kind of embarrassing and overwhelming—and I’m not sure what to do with my hands at this point.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mmm,” I purr softly. “Good. It feels nice.”

“I’m going to enter you now. Touch yourself, all right?”

Fearfully, my ears flatten again. I've done this once before, with Rai, sitting on his lap. I watched him watching me, but I can't see anything. I think I am facing away from him, but not being able to see is intimidating. I know he can see me, and I am slightly afraid.

“Myself?” I ask, my ears twitching.

“My hands will be otherwise engaged. I want to make sure I do not hurt you. Touch yourself. Pleasure yourself. I want to see.”

I feel him shifting around behind me—underneath me—and he places my knees on either side of his hips, but I am facing away from him. I haven’t done it in this position before, and I don’t feel quite secure—until I feel his hands come up around me and he starts to lower my hips down onto his cock.

He isn’t as big as the others who have taken me—he isn’t as large in stature—but when I feel him pressing inside me, I still feel the same pressure I felt with Asato, Rai, and Bardo. It isn’t quite as painful, however.

“Touch yourself, Konoe—I want you to pleasure yourself—just until I’m inside you,” Tokino whispers—and his voice is low and breathless spoken over my shoulder—and I can tell he wants this—he wants _me—_ very much.

I’m hesitant, but I obey him. I can’t resist when I hear that voice. Slightly pained gasps and sighs start to spill from my mouth as he pushes himself inside of my body ever so slowly and carefully. I try to relax and not to resist, and he plays with the base of my tail which helps me quite a bit, making it bristle with pleasure.

It still hurts, as though I am splitting open, but it's tolerable when I breathe carefully and slowly, and when I pay close attention to my own pleasure.

Within a few minutes, I feel my ass—which is still slightly sore from its earlier punishment—resting on his lap in a sitting position. I hear Tokino’s breath, elevated, and I feel him approaching me suddenly as he sits up. I gasp in surprise, feeling his abs flex behind my back and he pulls me a little closer. Are his feet on the floor?

His hands skate down my sides and waist, then around to the front of my body, where he places his hands on my dick, and a keening meow escapes my mouth. I really don’t know what to do with my hands now, so I lower them to the mattress and find the side of the mattress. 

“Aww, you _meowed_ for me,” he purrs in my ear. “Adorable!”

He slowly starts to rock his hips, pulling me against him and away, and then thrusting up, and I like the sensation. I just relax as much as possible and let him fuck me. He uses more and more force with his feet on the floor and starts adding more thrust. Soon enough that strange floating feeling starts to shiver through my body—this time, in a subtle way first. But before I know it I am gasping and wheezing for breath, unable to catch up to the pleasure that is quickly overtaking me.

I’m almost ready to call out my safe word because I can’t breathe when my ear is licked, and a shiver courses down my spine and my tail fluffs out. My back straightens, lining me up even more perfectly, and another meow spills from my lips. I can feel liquid spilling down the length of my cock—and I feel like he is holding me on his lap _by_ my erection.

It’s overwhelming and pleasurable—and it’s almost like being sunken in pleasure. I _love_ giving up control.

I do not, however, feel the bond from the song we sang this afternoon—try as I might. It may be because of the drugs or my exhaustion. And for a moment, I imagine giving up power and control to the silver cat and allowing him to do whatever he likes to me, not resisting, not complaining—simply just offering myself as I am to him and obeying his every command—and my fur bristles again.

I shouldn't be thinking of another cat when I am with Tokino, but I can't help it. I realize now that my choice is made. Thinking of another cat is only painful. However... 

Another meow slips out and I am at my limit.

“Tokino…” I whisper. “Please—may I…?”

“Come, Konoe, just come,” he growls in my ear.

I don’t waste any time at all. I spill my pleasure at his command, soaking his fist and my belly, and I growl with pleasure, my body shivers and another helpless meow escapes as numb relaxation shivers through my legs and arms, out to the tip of my tail. I feel him release inside of my body as well—surprisingly loud and satisfied, and he relaxes with his chin on my shoulder.

We just stay as we are—me sitting on his lap on the side of the bed, still blindfolded with him inside me. My legs feel like jelly. 

Ever so carefully, I am lifted up off his lap and onto the bed—and I feel a soft towel underneath my body.

“Don’t move,” he says softly. I’m left blindfolded for a moment and I hear him rustling around for a moment. Then I am scooped up and brought into the bathing chamber, where he removes my blindfold—I’ve missed his cheerful smile—rinses me in the shower, and then carries me into the hot spa. We spend a little time together soaking, floating, playing and splashing each other with water.

Tokino is different after sex—I wonder if he is younger than the other Tougas. He is happy and playful, and I am sleepy and lethargic. He teases a little more, whispering to me about how lovely I am, how much he enjoys spending time with me, touching me—specifically my ass and my legs.

“You have no right to have legs like this. I have been watching you all week. These are ridiculous!”

“What, is there something wrong with them?” I ask, my ears bristled offended.

“Not at all, except that they are just too perfect and too pretty. Especially this part, right here." He touches the top part of my thighs. I do have muscular legs, strong legs, and they have a nice curve on the outside just below my hips. I blush in response to his compliment and attention. "I was nervous someone might steal you away from me in town. No one could look away.”

And he teases me about meowing. I do meow more than most cats—and more when I am sleepy. I yawn in the spa, and another soft meow escapes with the yawn.

“There it is _again_!” He teases.

I can’t help but be a little embarrassed.

Finally, he helps me out and lets me go to bed. We sleep naked, and he grooms my ears and goes to sleep curled around me, his legs entangled with mine. 

The experience was such a strange one. Do I really enjoy giving up control? Am I really so afraid of sex that it’s easier to simply give up control? I don’t know. I don’t understand. And honestly, I don’t want to think too much about it. It might bother me later.

 

 


	20. Sisa v. Meigi Proper, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close, dear readers.
> 
> Our little prince wakes the morning after spending a nice night with Tokino--alone. However, he finds a certain other Touga skulking around outside his door and invites him in before breakfast.
> 
> At this point, Konoe is just eager to have the vetting process over and done with and is making his best efforts not to offend his parents again. Nano, the authentic Meigi Touga, doesn't make this easy, as he may be the strangest cat Konoe has ever met.

I wake in the morning to an empty bed. Tokino has left before the moon of light has risen—it’s strange, waking up alone. Something has woken me. I hear it again.

_Tap tap tap_

Someone is knocking on the glass door that leads out to my garden. Bold, I think, considering the hour. The moon of light has barely risen and I’m the _prince_.

I rub my eyes and sigh.

That sounded entitled, I suppose. I have to remind myself of these things because I sure don’t feel like the prince of Sisa anymore—not after all the events of this week. I feel more like cattle to be bought and sold at auction. I sit up in the bed, noticing at once I’m naked and that my ass and thighs are killing me—still—from the whipping yesterday. But I turn my head to look out the slightly sheer curtains and I see my silver Touga standing there, rather bolding peeking in through the glass with his hands cupped around his eyes to help him see.

My heart flips over in my chest.

Without thinking, I leap up from the bed and rush to the door.

“You can’t _be_ here!” I say in a sharp whisper, sliding it open and letting him inside. “What if someone saw you?”

Instead of answering me with words, his fur bristles and he lowers his lips to mine and kisses me, which I return more than eagerly, and he scoops me up in his arms.

“What a lovely greeting,” he murmurs. His scent is perfect—his taste is even more lovely than I remember—what is this feeling? I feel hot and sweaty with him surrounding me, as though he is inflaming me just with his presence. His hands smooth down the length of my body, my shoulders, my back, my waist, and then he inhales sharply when he reaches my ass. “Oh, my gods. What is this? What has happened to you? This—this couldn’t have been then Karou Touga?”

“No,” I sigh. “My parents.”

“Ridiculous! When they wouldn’t let me see you yesterday, _this_ was why?”

“Yes. Tokino took me out into town. I’ve never been out of the castle. It would have been disobeying him if I didn’t go, so of course, I complied—and I wanted to see my own kingdom. My parents were _furious_. And I wasn’t sorry. I saw things there I couldn’t believe—how my people see me? It was somewhat, um, eye-opening.”

“I see,” Rai says softly.

“Have you seen it?” I ask. I’m mortified. “Did you know how I am perceived?”

“Konoe, it’s not just you. _Any_ unknown royalty—hell, any royalty—gets this treatment. The only thing you can do to change this perception is to spend time with your people. And you haven’t been given this opportunity. You’re still young. It’s public opinion and it changes. Don’t be too concerned about it.” 

“But—you didn’t see what I saw,” I whine against his chest.

He chuckles softly, rubbing my ears.

“Poor kitten.”

“Are you laughing at me?” I ask, nipping at his collarbone.

“You’d best learn not to start something that you can’t be sure you can finish!” Rai growls softly. “Especially not when you’re in such a vulnerable state.” The base of my tail is grabbed gently, and he runs his claws through my fur. I want him—so much—and I pull him toward the bed. But he actually _hesitates_.

“What?” I ask. I feel slightly hurt by his hesitation. 

“You know, I want you very much—I just, um—well. I’m looking at the state of your body. Considering your parents’ unreasonable actions yesterday, maybe I should help you with bathing and getting ready for breakfast instead?” 

“Are you refusing me?” I ask—now I am sure I feel hurt. Is he rejecting me? I feel tears in my eyes, burning in the back of my throat. I knew this would happen! I knew he wouldn't want me after I'd been had by so many others after him. I knew it! I knew he'd see me as ruined! My breath starts to pick up and I feel panic rising in my chest.

“Konoe. Listen to me.” Rai’s voice is very serious. “I knew something had happened to you yesterday. But your parents—what they are doing—it’s unreasonable and unpredictable. Please hear me when I say I would like nothing more than to make love this little body of yours until you can’t breathe—not just today but for the rest of your life—but you have a prior commitment _today_. This is your _last_ commitment, too. Based on what happened yesterday—I mean, what were you supposed to do? You would have been punished either way!”

That had actually occurred to me. But they are my parents. They love me, don’t they? Is there something wrong with them? Is something going on with them that I don’t understand? Something else I don’t know about?

“I don’t want to do anything to lose my position here—in fact, I should not even be here now. But after hearing your voice yesterday, I had to see that you were all right. Let me care for you—just a little—and help prepare you for the day. Okay? But understand, I am _not_ —and would _never_ —reject you.” He looks into my eyes and then kisses me—hard, deep, and dirty. It makes me purr and sigh into his mouth—and really, I’m glad he bothered to explain. 

“You can do whatever you like with me,” I purr softly, as soon as he pulls away.

I don’t miss his ears prickling up with desire as soon as the words leave my mouth. Ah. I _see_. I suddenly feel incredibly grateful to Tokino. He may have been right about me. I have a certain skill. My silver cat rather enjoys the idea of submission. He looks down at me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

“Why don’t I leave everything to you?” I suggest, a gentle smile on my lips. 

“Damn it,” he whispers heatedly. “I can’t be held responsible for what happens next.” He scoops me up and brings me into the bathroom. 

I wait patiently, watching him strip off his clothes faster than I have ever seen anyone strip before. Even when rushing, he moves in such an elegant way—I’m always enchanted by how he moves—like a dancer, with grace and elegance—and he is a multitasker. He roughly pushes me under the showers, keeping my lips attached to his. As he is kissing me, I feel my hair getting shampooed, my scalp massaged, all my fur getting massaged and then rinsed. Then, my fur and hair are conditioned.

Next, he soaps me up—scrubbing every part of my body—and moving his lips from mine only when he has to—to other parts of my neck, my collarbones, my chest, my nipples—while stroking me everywhere else. It feels like he is claiming me, and I just submit and shiver. He starts caressing my cock, covering me with soap and lathering me up, bringing me so close to climax it’s not even funny. But he rinses me clean before he lets me finish, and then brings me out of the shower to dry off. I have to confess I growl in frustration when he moves me from the shower.

“Just have patience, kitten,” he murmurs in my ear. He is usually as good as his word—and a little fear courses through my body, mixing with my anticipation, which I can't say I actually dislike.

Before my body is dry, he puts some sort of body oil on me—using both his hands and his body as well—and he doesn’t spare any part of me. I’m already so aroused that I become breathless from panting obscenely. He pulls me up to stand and pushes me against the door of the bathing chamber while remaining seated before me—watching my expression while using his hands to coax me to climax. He even—gods—I even feel one of his hands sneaking around between my cheeks and brushing just beneath my tail—just lightly—making me shudder and my knees shake—in the same rhythm he’s working my erection. 

I’m gasping and sighing and purring, my fur fluffed out and desperate, my claws drawn against his arms, my entire body trembling, and my fangs bared. It feels like I can’t get enough air in my lungs and the tips of my ears and my nose and my tail go slightly numb with a buzzing sensation—just before my vision blanches white. 

My passion spills into his fist while my tail bristles thickly, twitching back and forth—and I’m sure I’m making more noise than I realize. It feels so nice—and my knees buckle. I simply submit to the pleasure as he catches me in his arms.

He cradles me for a little while afterward, wiping my body down—I think—as I bask in the afterglow, relaxing and enjoying his scent, the touch of his tongue on my ears and his nose nuzzling my hair. After a little while, he runs a brush through my hair and fur while I lie in his lap in a puddle of pleasured relaxation—including my tail, which shivers in delight at the sensation—and then wraps me up in a warm robe. I watch him pull on his clothes, and then I open the door to my bedroom.

To my shock, my staff is there—waiting to help me dress. I can tell by their expressions that they have been waiting for some time, especially by their knowing smirks. _Gods_!

I flush bright red, but Rai is nonplussed. He greets them by name and they are flustered and delighted to be recognized by this handsome cat. Jacques in particular is flattered to be remembered. Rai kisses my lips gently and whispers in my ears before he leaves.

“I’ll see you at breakfast. I hope you have a nice, _relaxed_ day today.” 

My stomach feels filled with butterflies as I watch his ass and tail leave through the garden door—and gods, he’s so attractive as he throws a little smirk and a wink over his shoulder.

Then, Jacques starts blathering about how handsome he is, how scandalous that I went to bed with one Touga and woke up with another—on and on—and then says, “But don’t worry, Your Grace, we won’t say a word! He’s our favorite! He’s so kind, and he’s been very nice to us while he is here. I mean, many of them have been sweet. But he goes out of his way to check if Your Grace is doing all right.”

My mind is elsewhere—definitely not on my staff's useless prattle—until I stand in front of the mirror, seeing myself dressed in shades of royal purple—an unusual color for me, but also quite flattering. It sets off my golden eyes and hair in a lovely way. I definitely have a lovely glow about me. It’s almost embarrassing—that glow. Anyone looking at me could guess what I have just been doing, and that embarrasses me even more!

I shake my head to put my mind back in the game. That’s right. It’s the real Meigi Touga today. I have such a hard time reading that cat. He can’t be as bad as the imposter—except that he said he “took care” of the imposter, whatever that means. I wonder—did he kill him? It worries me. I dislike Shiki very much, and I have a suspicion I am not the only Sanga he has treated so severely and wouldn't be the last, so perhaps he did get what he deserved... but death? I don't know. Thinking about it upsets my stomach, but I put on my prettiest smile and head down to breakfast. 

I’m on time, thankfully. And both my parents are there, waiting for me outside the doors to the dining room. They give me a look, up and down, probably noticing that glow I am sporting and also noticing that Tokino is not with me—I think they making sure I arrive in a timely fashion. They ask how I am feeling, which I find slightly odd. I’m sore, of course, from the whipping yesterday, and Papa looks regretful—if I’ve ever seen that expression on his face. I wonder if he regrets anything—ever. I don’t start anything, though. This is the _last_ day I will have to do this, and I’m just going to get through it. After today, I will never have to do a thing they tell me again.

First, I thank Tokino for the night before, like I’m expected to do. I smile and I don’t ask why he slipped out in the night, but he seems pleased with me. I was worried he was displeased and was slightly worried he’d say something about it to my parents—but why would he? He knew it would get me in even more trouble. He takes the time to thank me for the evening and wishes me the best with the selection process. 

Then, I see Rai, and Dad makes his way toward his table to hurry me along to make sure I don’t spend too much time with him. But I’m oddly shy now. I am all blushes, really—it’s a little strange. And because my dad is on his way, I only get a chance for a quick thank you for checking in on me before I am interrupted and urged to move along.

“Go. It’s all right,” Rai urges. But he doesn’t look all that pleased about it.

Bardo is still out of sight, which is fine by me. He can stay gone, for all I care. I'm still upset about him and the fact that my parents believed he was within his rights.

Asato is glad to see me, and he fawns over me as well. He smells oddly good as well—which is weird. I remember he smelled sort of floral, but now it’s even stronger. I would rather stay at this table, but again, Dad urges me along to the Meigi Touga.

I swallow my anxiety and move my feet.

“Good morning,” I say, bowing my head politely. Nano looks up at me, his facial expression completely blank, his eyes indigo blue and also oddly flat. There is something awfully peculiar about this cat, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. He doesn’t seem to move enough, I think—his ears don’t twitch and his tail doesn’t move quite right—and his facial expression changes very little. And his eyes look very expressionless. I have a hard time imagining what he is thinking.

He’s certainly nice to look at—ivory skin, a little older than the other Tougas, but I can’t quite tell—certainly not as old as Bardo, who was 25, I think—with golden brown hair and soft looking medium length fur, which is shiny and smooth. Out of everyone here, he is dressed the most regally, I think, yet while his robes are fine, they are also strangely simple and not fussy. He doesn’t wear jewelry. Yet he has a strong, royal presence and an air of not caring how he affects anyone around him. 

“Good morning, little Sanga.” His voice is smooth and slightly flat as well—not quite enough intonation to read any expression. 

“May I serve you some tea?” I offer, walking to his side of the table. “This is a local leaf grown in the area. Personally, I enjoy this kind with a little honey and cream.” I talk more when I am nervous, and I find my mouth moving without my permission. I hope I'm not being annoying. 

I carefully pour the steeped tea into his cup as he watches and leans into me slightly. Is he smelling me? That’s slightly unnerving, but I try not to flinch away.

“May I?” I ask as I add a little honey and cream. I hope I’m not being too forward. Then I quickly return to my seat and pour myself a cup as well.

“Hmm,” Nano says. “Sweet and floral—like orange blossom. It tastes like you.”

His words are spoken in such a flat tone and without a smile, making all the hair on my nape stands on end. _Tastes_ —like he wants to eat me? Not in a sexy way, either! It’s slightly frightening, and my hand shakes enough so I have to set my cup back down to prevent it from clinking impolitely against the saucer. I also can’t help but notice how he is looking at me—and where. His eyes are glued on my neck, it seems, and it makes me very uncomfortable when I see his sharp fangs slightly exposed. It almost looks like he is thinking of biting me right there. Without my consent, I notice my hand has floated up to my neck, right where he is looking at me, and I force it back down into my lap.

“Ah, um, have you enjoyed your time here in Sisa?” I ask, trying to change the conversation and unsuccessfully distract him from my anxiety. My voice is obviously nervous, and I try to settle it. Why am I so nervous around him?

“Do you fear me, little Sanga?”

My ears flatten against my skull in response to the question and my tail bristles rudely, catching my dad’s attention at once.

“O-of course not,” I lie—as boldly as I dare, desperately trying to settle my fur before my dad makes his appearance over here. He's well on his way, taking long strides over to this table, getting up from his own breakfast which he was taking with Papa.

“Your pupils are dilated, your fur is bristled, and your pulse is racing,” Nano points out.

He can hear my heart race from across the table?! His ears are barely even pointed in my direction! I’m appalled—and even more terrified than I was a few seconds earlier.

“Are you behaving yourself, Konoe?” Dad asks, as he makes his way over to the table. I find I cannot look up from the tea in front of me. “You haven’t forgotten your manners, have you?” He gives the Meigi a friendly smile.

“The little Sanga is merely afraid of me,” Nano says in that same flat voice, much to my utter horror. Please! Not quite so much honesty around my parents! _Please_! 

Blood rushes into my cheeks and ears, and I can feel Dad staring down at me. I also sense Papa’s presence walking up to the table. Shit. Family drama the first thing at breakfast! I need to get a fucking grip before I suffer some sort of horrible public humiliation at the hands of my insane parents in front of everyone here in the dining room!

“N-no, I-it’s n-not that,” I try to explain. “I-i’m o-only a b-bit n-nervous—”

“Considering how the imposter forced himself on you, little Sanga, it is only natural,” Nano replies. “You need not fear me. I have no plans to publicly humiliate you in the arena, collar you, or whip you with a variety of implements for my own pleasure in the bedroom this evening.”

_Oh, my gods._

I lift my eyes just for a second, and Nano’s voice carries quite well. With my parents standing right there, we’ve attracted quite a crowd. So it seems quite a few people have heard what was just said. I am _mortified_. Anyway, how does he even _know_  all that?! I don’t think I even told Rai about the “variety of implements” Shiki used on my ass that horrible night!

“He’s like a flower,” Nano remarks thoughtfully—addressing my parents. “White and gold and then blossoming pink seasonally.”

What the hell? Is he talking about my blush?! That just makes me blush redder and makes me even more flustered. I don't know how to act around him or what to say. He’s so weird. I don’t understand him—I don’t understand anything! 

I cast a desperate look toward my parents, who are observing Nano calmly. They exchange a glance with each other, and then they look at me—with a certain degree of pity. And then they just smile.

“You will be just fine today, Konoe. Why not bring Nano to the arena? Or you have a little time. Perhaps show him the garden first?” Dad suggests kindly.

Fuck _no_! I don’t want anything to _do_ with him! _Please_! I try begging with my eyes, accidentally meeting Papa’s glare, who stares me down boldly. My ass burns with the memory of his most recent whipping (and really, I was never even beaten as a child, so why are they starting this now?!) when he returns my gaze, and I back off immediately. 

“Yes, sir,” I say softly—and I have to force the tears from my throat. This is not going as I expected. Not at all! I am afraid and I can’t get a read on this Touga at all. He frightens me because I do not understand! I'm nervous, frightened and flustered. But I pull myself up to stand and I swallow those feelings, pasting a pretty smile on my pretty face. I can still be pretty, I guess?

“Go on, then,” Papa says, excusing us from the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written Nano before, and I owe many of these ideas to Nicole_Premier (Mistress Arachnia) who writes some amazing Nano (go and read them and you too will suddenly realize OMG, I missed so much in TNC!) and gave me some fantastic ideas for how to work him into this story. That being said, I'd like to apologize to Nano fans everywhere and TNC fans for this bit of drivel. I never feel like I quite do him justice. I briefly wondered--and am bravely considering--a POV switch--for the next chapter or two, to make it a little more, well, real, but the idea stresses me out so much.
> 
> To me, it seems Nano and Konoe are polar opposites, as far as how their brains work--just to put it generally. And I am definitely more like Konoe--or how he is written here, anyway.


	21. Sisa v. Meigi Proper, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After breakfast, the little prince gets to know the real Meigi Touga in the gardens. He learns a few things about him he doesn't really want to know, and also a few things that bring his current situation into doubt. Nano offers to help Konoe, however. The help he offers comes with a small price, of course.
> 
> There's a summary at the end of the chapter to prevent spoilers.

With a certain degree of hesitation, I lead the strange Meigi Touga into the gardens. He follows close on my heels, staying in lock-step with me. He’s only slightly taller than me, not as tall as Rai or Bardo. He’s closer in size to Tokino, but there’s something about his presence that I find intimidating.

All I can think about is this feeling that he is _not_ a cat.

I feel compelled to move my mouth, make conversation and _say_ something, just for the sake of talking. I don’t know what else I can do. The silence feels strange and awkward, plus I’m afraid my parents might be watching and will immediately notice my fear of him and punish me for it. We walk out to the bench and sit down—and I remember suddenly this is where Bardo made all those empty promises and lies to me. I feel horribly sick, as though I might actually vomit.

“Little Sanga,” Nano’s smooth voice purrs. “You are so nervous you are making yourself ill.”

“Ah, n-no. I-i’m fine,” I lie again, even as I feel this morning’s breakfast rising in my throat. What would happen if I did throw up? My parents would kill me! I can’t even _think_ about that tiger, how he took advantage of me, how he promised he would be kind and gentle, and then how he went back on every word he said and took advantage of me at my weakest moment. “B-but would you m-mind i-if we moved?”

Nano stands up and offers me his hand. Seeing that pale hand outstretched, I take it—almost like a lifeline. When I touch it, it feels cool against my own and suddenly I feel _soothed—_ allmy anxieties are soothed. It’s the strangest sensation. Is this magic?

I am so startled by the feeling—and delighted—that I glance up at Nano’s eyes, expecting them to be their usual dark blue, but they are slightly purple in color. I know for sure his eyes change color now, because this morning, I remember they were midnight blue. I swallow thickly.

“What did you just do to me?” I ask quietly.

“I promised I would not hurt you,” he replies gently, refusing to answer my question. “Let’s walk.”

Keeping my hand in his, he pulls me up a little closer to his side, but still, the only parts of us touching are our hands. There is a connection there—and something that goes deeper than skin. This cat is like none I have ever met. Perhaps he  _is_ the result of magic, but I think this is different. Because Papa Leaks is a sorcerer, I recognize magic when I see it, and I think this is the result of something _more_ than magic. I think this soothing feeling might be a result of who he is—either a Meigi cat or something _other_ than a cat.

“Wh-what are you? Are you really a cat?” I ask.

Nano doesn’t answer right away, but eventually, he sighs softly and replies. 

“I am what the Meigi worship.”

What they _worship_? Wait just a second. From my lessons, I remember they worship a _demon_ , don’t they? I try to stop walking, and Nano does not, dragging me along behind him.

“Wait—stop!” I urge. And then he does stop, looking down at me. His expression is blank—not unkind, not cruel, not angry, not _anything_. His eyes are back to midnight. I look closely, and he looks… ageless. No wrinkles on his fair skin, no gray in his golden brown hair. “What _are_ you?”

He simply looks at me as though he has already answered the question, which, I suppose, he has. But I’d like to hear him say it directly. Is he a demon?

“What are you doing here? Why did you come?” I press further.

“My people ordered me to come. The power of your song is renown throughout the world, little Sanga. They asked me to return you for the good of our kingdom.”

“By participating in this…” I have to bite back the words “barbaric custom” and finish with something more diplomatic, “ritual?”

“They wanted me to bring you back by any means necessary for the good of our kingdom,” he states plainly.

My fur stands on end. By any means necessary? 

“Kidnap me?” I ask. I’m horrified. 

“If necessary.”

“Are you planning to do that?” I am _more_ than nervous now.

“I am what my people worship. They will do my bidding.”

I don’t say anything for a moment, waiting for him to continue. I don’t understand if that means he will do as they’ve asked or not.

“Pristine, inexperienced, unbonded Sanga are valuable in our country. They have power and are worth much to many, especially those of royal birth.”

I still don’t speak.

“If I were to return with you, you’d be auctioned off to the highest bidder to profit the Meigi kingdom.”

My ears flatten, and I try to tear my hand away from his. When he won’t release me, I hiss and growl and fight. 

“Release me! Don’t _touch_ me!” I bare my fangs and draw claws. He grabs both my wrists, pinning them easily. I have no power against him, and I am frightened.

“You asked why I came and I answered. You didn’t ask what I was planning to do.”

Tears burn in my eyes, and I feel humiliated and helpless.

“So, what do you plan to do?” My voice is quiet and timid, trying to hold back tears.

“I will do what I want, as I always do. You are trembling.”

Of course, I’m trembling! I don’t _want_ to go back to some strange country and be auctioned off to some crazy-ass Touga like Shiki! I want to stay here and choose Rai. I can’t imagine my entire life being as horrible as it has been the last week—because that is what would happen if Nano did his people’s bidding.

A soft smile creeps up to Nano’s face. Now he thinks the situation is _funny_?! It’s pissing me off! I feel my neck heating up, and my face getting hotter. 

“Again, your emotions bloom on your face like a flower. It’s fascinating. Surely, the kingdom would get a fortune from your sale.”

“I would _never_ go with you willingly,” I say, keeping my tone defiant.

“You are in love with the silver Touga,” he replies—and that surprises me. I have been secretive about it. He leans in toward me, as though smelling my ears, and I try my best not to be intimidated, flattening my ears. “You see him regularly outside of his turn. In fact, you saw him this morning.”

My fur bristles. How would he know that? Just from my scent? His sense of smell couldn’t possibly be that good!

“What _are_ you?” I ask again, unable to control my shaking or the bitterness in my tone. “And what are you planning to do to me? Are you going to take me from here? Are you going to tell my parents about Rai? Ruin my happiness?”

“That isn’t what I desire,” his voice is flat and he glances away. “What I desire waits for me in my kingdom.”

I am quiet for a moment. Does that mean he has a lover? Someone else? My ears perk up slightly. 

“There’s someone else? Someone you love?”

“Love?” He asks—and he looks at me again. His eyes are shining blue now—not midnight, not purple, but _blue_. I swallow nervously. I’m afraid he might actually _be_ a demon, and I don’t know how to behave around demons. Is he going to want to fuck me, too? Oh, my gods. If Shiki was bad, what the hell is a demon going to expect from me in bed?!

“You know, someone for whom you’d sacrifice anything,” I whisper. “Someone whose face won’t leave your mind no matter how much you try to avoid thinking about him. Someone for whom you would sacrifice your kingdom.” 

“Someone for whom you’d defy your parents?” Nano asks, making me bristle. I stifle the growl in my throat. 

“He was _worried_!” I protest. “He _cares_ about me! My parents are being unreasonable and unpredictable! They are…” I can’t finish the sentence. Tears burn in my eyes. When did it get to be like this? When did my parents get to be like this? Have they always been so controlling? I look down at my hands. 

“They are hurting you.”

“Yes.”

“Let me help you.”

I look up. His voice is still perfectly even and flat.

“How? What can you do?” I ask, my own tone helpless and hopeless, and though that trace of bitterness is gone, I still taste it in my mouth.

Nano laughs—and it’s a soft, hollow sound. I know that laughter. It’s hauntingly familiar. Does he actually understand me?

“I have something I can teach you. Don’t you wonder if the silver cat really cares about you? If he would sacrifice as much as you would sacrifice to be with you?” 

His words strike fear—like ice—into the core of my heart. My hands lift from their place in front of me to my chest as though to protect it from the pain. Tears leak from my eyes and spill down my cheeks.

“Ah, you _do_ feel it, don’t you? The seeds of doubt and pain.”

I don’t reply. I can’t. But I do watch him carefully.

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that his could _all_ be an act? That he is acting—just like _all_ the other Tougas—in the best interest of his kingdom? It isn’t malicious, of course. He hopes he will come to love you, over time, as much as he professes to love you now. You make it easy for him with your genuine innocence and inexperience, as well as with your looks. But it won’t matter because as soon as you accept him as your Touga and husband, you will _belong_ to him. You will _have_ to do his bidding, just as you have to do your parents’ bidding now. He will have _won_.”

Rai? Is that what he is doing? _Really_? I am suddenly filled with doubt—even as I smell his enticing scent lingering on my fur, even as it arouses me, even as I long for his touch. A creepy crawly sensation worms its way down my nape and spine, and it settles heavily in my heart.

“As far as you know, when he brings you home to Setsura, he will have a room prepared for you in the dungeon, just as the Meigi have.”

“ _No_ ,” I whisper—but I am horrified. How has this person managed to make me doubt my love for Rai? And how is it that I have _never_ considered this possibility before? This ritual—all of these proceedings— _all_ of this is absolutely _insane_! I have to make myself available, down to my bare skin and even beyond, to my _soul_ , and yet, I have _no_ guarantee of what will be offered me in return!

“Help me,” I whisper. “Please.”

“I will show you how to test him. With my gift. Let’s go to the arena where we will begin.”

I lead the Meigi to the changing rooms, where I remove my outer layers of clothing. To my shock, Nano removes the purple robes entirely, revealing skin-tight black leathers underneath—and holy shit, does he ever have a nice-looking body. I mean, I knew he had to be in good shape. He’s a Touga, after all. But this—his chest is lean and well-defined, his waist is slim, his hips are narrow, and he has a great ass. His legs are mouthwatering, and I am staring and he is noticing. I quickly look away.

“Even after all the time you’ve spent with the others—and your silver cat—you are still shy,” he comments. It’s not a question. And he is approaching me. Of course, he frightens me. I want to back away, but I don’t. This is the last cat I will have to tolerate touching me against my will, the last Touga I have to entertain before I can send the rest home, the last—

His cool hand rests softly at the base of my ears, and I feel suddenly _relaxed_. His touch is amazingly soothing. The feeling starts at my ears and melts through the rest of my body. When the relaxation reaches my knees, they nearly buckle. It feels _so_ good. I enjoy the sensation, but it’s almost shocking. Like this, he could easily subdue me and take me with him. I can see it. If that's what he wanted, I would go with him, unresisting. 

The only action I can take is looking back at him. It’s just as well since I notice my parents have walked in.

“Are you ready, honey?” Dad asks. 

“Mmm, yes,” I murmur softly. I feel much more settled and ready for the arena now—even when Nano takes his hands off my ears. A slightly fuzzy feeling clears in my head and I take a deep breath. It’s like waking from a dream. What did he do to me?

“We will be out in a moment,” he says. I watch Dad nod and Papa leads him out into the arena.

“Konoe, my magic is blood magic. It relies on _your_ blood, in fact. I will take some from you now. It will increase our bond in the arena and help you learn what I have to teach. It may be slightly painful for you, but this is what is required. Remain calm and relaxed.” 

“Okay,” I say quietly—to my utter surprise. Why don't I resist? Those words are crazy! I feel his hands move to the waistband of my breeches, which are deftly unbuckled and unbuttoned and then pulled down swiftly, exposing my underclothing, which he leaves in place.

Keeping his hands on me the entire time seems to keep me calm and relaxed, and so I don’t even act surprised when he drops to his knees before me and spread my thighs apart. I feel him lick the inside of my upper thigh a few times, and it makes me shiver. A buzzing sensation appears there—in the wake of his saliva, perhaps—and then, his lips brush against me. I feel a slight pinch and then his fangs sink into the soft flesh of my inner thigh, spilling blood from there into his mouth.

I let out a quiet meow in protest, but I don’t scream or try to escape. Weirdly, I just submit to this as though it were the most natural thing in the world. I can feel him sucking at the wound, and I hear him swallowing my blood, and then finally he licks the wound clean, and I feel that strange buzzing sensation again as it heals quickly. He pulls up my breeches and then releases me from his grip.

The moment I am released I realized that I’ve been _bitten_ and that another cat—or something—has licked the wound in order to _drink my blood_. I am terrified—and I quickly clutch at my pants with shaking fingers, glaring at Nano with utter disbelief and horror.

He is licking the blood from his mouth and his lips.

“Go on. Get dressed.” His voice remains flat and unexpressive.

“Y-you b- _bit_ me!” I hiss, still disbelieving. I can’t believe this!

“I did. I said I require your blood to teach you what I know. Get dressed.”

My hands are shaking too much to button my breeches, and I feel him touch my shoulders gently. I flinch away from his touch, expecting him to bite me again, but he doesn’t. In fact, the touch soothes me in such a peaceful way I hardly know what to do.

No, that isn’t right. I _do_ know what to do. My hands stop shaking and I button my pants up just as he told me to do earlier. I also take a few deep breaths.

“It’s all right now, Konoe. Let’s go.”

Keeping his hand on me for now, he leads me out to the arena to fight. I follow without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nano is "what the Meigi worship," or a demon. Konoe realizes this when he is alone with Nano in the garden, feeling sick and nauseated because the last time he was there was with Bardo and his lies.
> 
> Nano points out that he is participating in the event because his people want him to bring Konoe back to Meigi, because "unbonded, inexperienced and royal Sanga are worth a lot to many," as he says. He was told to bring Konoe back regardless of the outcome of Konoe's decision, which, of course, freaks Konoe out.
> 
> Nano knows he is in love with Rai--and can smell that he has even seen Rai earlier that morning. Konoe is afraid that Nano may tattle to his parents or steal him away, but Nano points out that his parents are actively hurting him, and he also asks Konoe if he knows whether Rai's feelings are real or not. How does he know Rai isn't putting on an act for the sake of his kingdom? Konoe makes it easy, because of his inexperience and cuteness, of course, and maybe Rai does want to feel love for him at some point. But perhaps Setsura has a dungeon set up for Konoe as well, just like the Meigi, and he'd be none the wiser.
> 
> Konoe is terrified by the thought--and the doubts. And he begs for Nano's help. Which, of course, comes at a price. Blood magic. Nano helps himself by biting Konoe's leg before they go out to the arena.
> 
> Also--Nano can "calm" and "soothe" Konoe by touching him. Konoe recognizes this as magic or even more than magic since it feels different than Papa Leaks. That's how he figures out Nano is not just a cat. We leave them walking into the arena.


	22. Sisa v. Meigi Proper, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe and Nano fight together in the arena. It goes well. Nano sees to his care afterward in a much different way than any other Touga has.
> 
> Before dinner, however, Rai confronts Konoe in a fit of jealousy and worry. 
> 
> Triggers: Angst and intimidation.

Once we start combat in the arena, I’m floored by the power of the Meigi. Rai is an excellent Touga and we fought really well together, but Nano doesn’t seem to require my help in the least. I’ve never seen a cat move the way he moves—quickly and without hesitation. He doesn’t even need to bother with protecting me since none of the enemy monsters conjured by Papa get anywhere close to me.

I am singing—and I feel the bond between us vibrating as it should—but it feels very different than it did with any other cat. I can’t quite hear and feel his thoughts from the other end. I mean, I feel _something_ , but it’s like a void as soon as the battle starts.

I send several test messages to him in my head, as I was taught. 

_Can you hear me? Do you need or want me to sing differently for you?_

And he replies, _Your song is beautiful—the color of the sun. Warm and bright._

It’s an odd reply, of course. Not exactly an answer to my question, but still, I don’t know if I’m having any effect at all, because Nano really does move like a demon. It’s almost so fast that the image of his sloping shoulders shimmer out in my vision and they pop up in another place—like he is teleporting. I’m amazed and am struggling to keep my mouth from hanging open.

_You’re amazing. I’ve never seen anyone move like you._

My thought crosses our bond—accidentally—and I am completely focussed on Nano. I’m slightly embarrassed, but it’s not as though I can hide my feelings when I sing. It’s like stripping in front of someone—only I’m exposing what my intentions are instead of my skin. I do not know how to deceive my partner, though I have heard that some Tougas do train for this. I am slightly worried about Rai—but the thought is currently back in my mind.

_It’s one benefit from becoming who I have become._

Nano’s thoughts come across with his flat tone. Similarly to how Rai’s thoughts sounded light, flirty, and filled with desire, there is heavy darkness surrounding Nano’s thoughts. It occurs to me he may be hiding something from me. 

_Not hiding. Protecting you from pain you don’t need to see or experience._

The thought instantly floods my mind—and he glances back at me. I hadn't realized he'd be able to read thoughts I hadn't directed at him. I’ve lost track of how many battles he’s won—but he was much faster and much more powerful than any other Touga. It’s surely been more than six. He has experience in death and killing, and it would be frightening if he weren't on my side.

Why do I think he is on my side? Because he promised to help me?  
  
My knees suddenly become weak and they buckle. Even if the battles are going faster, I am still expending a huge amount of energy—and this bond is difficult to maintain. I am sure I am about to hit the ground and I brace myself for it—but I’m caught effortlessly in Nano’s arms. He is looking up at my parents, his tail flat rather than in question, I can’t help noticing. Why doesn’t he move it like a cat? 

“Excellent!” Papa’s voice rings out. “Obviously—that went much more quickly than I expected, but it was _wonderful_. I’m sorry our son tired before you did.”

“He has a beautiful voice—and his song is warm and genuine,” Nano says. 

“Would you see to his care?” Dad asks, and I shiver for a moment—but Nano runs his hands through the fur in my ears, settling and quieting me in an instant.

“Of course."  
  
“We’ll see you at dinner, honey,” Dad calls out to me encouragingly. “You did a great job!”

My ears flatten a little as I am carried off the field. I have no power in my body, and I have no choice but to submit. But I’m irritated with my parents and how solicitous they are being.

“Where should I bring you?” Nano asks once we get inside.

“Um—my chambers would be fine,” I say, still a little nervous. He walks down several hallways and finds my room, but he doesn’t speak.

“What did you want to teach me?”

“It’s more something I need to show you,” Nano says, as he pushes the door open to my chambers. He sets me down on the bed. I’m hot and sweaty, and I’m not sure this is a good idea.

“W-wait,” I say. “Um, I could use a shower.”

“You smell nice—warm and genuine,” Nano says, and he leaves me on the bed, pulling off my boots. “Plus you have no power in your body and you can’t stand up on your own.”

I try not to growl in reply, but he is stripping off my clothes—rapidly—specifically my shirt and my trousers, leaving me in my underwear. I feel threatened and I’m a little frightened now.

“W-weren’t you going to _teach_ me something?” I stammer.

“Patience is a virtue,” he replies, dragging his hand down the length of my body. He climbs onto the bed next to me—still dressed in his tight-fitting leathers, and I fluff out my fur defensively and a quiet growl leaks from my throat, since that's all I can do. Is he going to fuck me? Right now? Like what Bardo did?  
  
“Please—um—I don’t like feeling so helpless.”

“That feeling will fade as you get older and once you are permanently bonded,” Nano says—almost as though he is ignoring what I am _trying_ to say. I shiver a little in fear. Does he really not understand what I mean? Perhaps I should clarify. So I try again. 

“I mean—I don’t like to be touched when I can’t move.” 

“But then you would still be out in the arena.” He looks at me with a completely straight face and serious expression. “Should I have let you fall to the ground and left you there?” 

“N-no,” I stutter. Why is it so hard to talk to him? “I m-mean, I do not enjoy being touched, um, sexually when I don’t have any control over my body.”

Nano looks at me with surprise on his face—and that in itself is strange because his face isn’t usually terribly expressive.

“Thank you for informing me.”

But then when nothing else comes, and he continues petting me in my underwear, I don’t know what else to think. I am afraid. 

“W-will you n-not respect my wishes?” I ask very quietly.

Again, he looks at me—showing just a little confusion mixed with exasperation.

“You have been hurt this past week, kitten. Traumatized. I, too, understand this pain, more than you could ever know.”

But he _doesn’t_ say he won’t hurt me. He did, though— _earlier_. So maybe I should trust him? I’m afraid. I keep thinking of Bardo and what he did to me! 

“Please, will you touch my ears as you did earlier? That, um, calming thing?” 

He complies, and a rush of relaxation floods my anxious heart and my racing mind. It feels nice and soothing. I’m not sure what gift or spell this is, but it definitely is what I need.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

I watch as Nano moves toward the foot of the bed, straddling my legs. The leather from his pants feels strange and sticky against my skin. I don’t feel any panic, of course, because of that calm and relaxation touch earlier.

“Our connection will require additional blood on your part. If I take it now, it will be easiest for you.”

“Okay,” I say, and a purr rises from my chest. A _purr_ —when I’m about to be bitten by this cat-like person who might be a demon! I’m _purring_!! That spell of his certainly is magic.

He leans down to lick the inside of my left thigh this time—and the licking feels strangely calming—and again, that buzzy, numbing sensation follows after a few licks of his tongue. It also feels like my blood is floating to the surface of my skin like it _wants_ Nano. It’s awfully strange. 

When his fangs sink into the soft skin of my thigh, I meow—a soft sound—a quiet protest. It does sting a little—I mean, I’m being _bitten_. And this time, he takes more blood than he did before. He glances up at me while he’s doing this.

His eyes change color before my eyes. They go from midnight blue to grey to red—all in a few seconds. _Red_ eyes. I don’t remember seeing this before. But he keeps his eyes on my face, and I don’t struggle. My vision wobbles slightly, as though the world is floating or tipping, and a grey fog blurs the outer edges of my vision as well. I rest calmly, though—still not panicking. 

His hands continue stroking my body—my waist and hips, the outside of legs, even down to my knees—while this blood collection is going on. It really isn’t freaking me out, either—in fact, his lips feel soft against my skin. I suddenly start to feel a little different—like I notice how attractive his face is. He is older than some of the Tougas—he looks to be in his early 20s—but I realize he’s been around a lot longer than that. 

As I lie in bed, I close my eyes for a moment, and another weird sensation floods my mind. It’s a memory. It’s a pleasant memory, in fact—I think. I see Nano as a cat—a _real_ Ribika—his ears twitching and his tail flicking back and forth—and he is much younger than he looks now. And he is _singing_. My gods—is he a _Sanga_? He is connecting with a Touga who is larger than him and is fighting for him—in an arena. What _is_ this? How long ago was it? The Touga’s face looks oddly blurry, however—faded from his memory and he either doesn’t want to remember it or can’t remember it. 

Then, the vision changes—to something much darker. And while the feeling around these memories is muffled, I can feel terror underneath that dark surface. It’s the inside of a prison cell—I can barely make out the bars on the cell it is so incredibly dark. 

And then—I see flashes—one after the other—and these are horrifying. It’s like what Shiki did—what Bardo did—everything done to him against his will. He is crying in these memories, and so many cats come in one after the other, all their faces obscured by time. When I see this incredible suffering, I can hardly believe it, and I do my best to reach out my hands to his head, stroking his ears and his hair. I end up resting them on his head and moving my fingers since my arms aren't functioning. His hair is soft and wavy, and it feels like silk under my fingers. I am trying to soothe him, but he doesn’t seem terribly upset. And even under the spell, I am probably more upset on his behalf. It makes my heart ache.

These visions—of rape and torture—end with his _death_ —or what to me _looks_ like his death. Someone in a shaman’s mask is standing over him and he is on a table (an altar, I know it’s an altar), and has made many painful incisions with a large dagger. He is bleeding from his wrists, his arms, his chest, his thighs—and I want this vision to stop! I start to struggle a little. It’s an awful memory. Is this what he was protecting me from in the arena, I wonder? 

Then—I see something different. It’s a small cat, close in size to me, only more muscular. He has silver hair, cropped messily, creamy skin, and stunning eyes that are between blue and green. He is carrying a sword. There is a feeling of desire and love for this cat, who is looking at Nano in this memory with a calm, gentle smile, no trace of fear in his expression. I suddenly realize that Nano does not _want_ to be feared. Perhaps he loves this cat because he does not fear him.

Now, the memories stop suddenly, and I am left lethargic and exhausted.

“You will need rest for our activities later this evening and what I will teach you.” The smooth voice drifts from around my waist, and I struggle to open my eyes. But he brushes across my forehead, down across my eyes, making them drift closed. A heavy, dream-like sensation comes over my body when he does this, even more of a relaxing sensation that I got from him before. 

I meow quietly when a yawn escapes, and I want to curl up on my side, but of course, I still can’t move. I try to ask him to move my body but I sort of forget, and he simply watches me fight sleep for a moment or two. And sooner than I realize, I drift off into a sound and dreamless sleep. When my staff wakes me to help me dress for dinner, he is no longer in the room.

I am left with a significant purple bruise on my left thigh and a lighter one on my right. What was that about? I wonder as I shower and then quickly dress for dinner. I am dressed handsomely—wearing gold and deep purple this evening—and my hair is combed out and plaited. I look—different. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel a little lightheaded. Maybe from blood loss? Or something else? Is there something else with this blood magic I don’t understand?  
  
Of course, I’m anxious about this evening, and I see Jacques staring at the bruises on my thighs, but he doesn’t say anything. Or if he does, it goes in one ear and out the other. I am ignoring him. He is not good at comforting me, in any case.

When I leave my chambers, walking down the corridor toward the dining room, someone grabs my arm and pulls me into a side hallway with little traffic. I recognize his scent right away, and I lean up and nuzzle his silver hair. I feel all melty, and I stand up on my tiptoes to kiss my silver cat. Then I pull away.

“You can’t keep doing this. The Meigi knows you were with me this morning.”

Rai’s small ears flatten, his face serious.

“Do you like him?”

I’m not sure how to answer that, and I purse my lips for a moment while I consider. Rai continues with worry in his voice.

“I’ve never seen _anyone_ fight like that! Who is he? I’ve never heard of him, and I have heard of many other famous Tougas from other countries.”

“He, um, he has some unusual experience,” I say, realizing I should probably _not_ tell Rai that Nano is actually a demon. “He had a long, hard training regimen, too, and you know—um, the Meigi are very secretive.”

Rai stares down at me, and he is not pleased. He is smelling me, though.

“Did he touch you? Take advantage of you after the arena?”

“No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He continues smelling my ears and my neck, and it’s sending little shivers down my back and into my tail. He is acting really jealous—more jealous than he was of Asato, for sure. I don't dislike being a source of concern, of course, but this feels extreme. What is wrong with him?

“You looked different out there—in the arena. Like you trusted him. And the song you sang for him was different from the one you sing for me.”

“Rai,” I urge, trying to push him away. “I can’t let other people find me with you right now, so please.” My efforts are useless.

“Do you _like_ him?” 

My ears flatten.

“Don’t you trust me?” I hiss. This is becoming slightly irritating. He knew what he was getting into by participating in this barbaric ritual. “Are you jealous? Because you handled it when I had to spend the night with Asato.”

“This one—he is different. There is something… different about him. I don’t want to leave you alone with him.”  
  
I know exactly the feeling he is describing, because I had it myself when we were wandering in the gardens, alone, and also after the arena battle. But Nano made me feel better. I'm sure Rai can sense something is different about Nano. But still. I'm not going to say it.

“He uses magic. It’s soothing magic. I will be fine. He says he does not want to hurt me, and he already has another he loves.”

Rai’s fur fluffs out when he hears about magic, ignoring my statement about his lover.

“What kind of magic?”

“Rai, it’s fine! He just touches me and I feel, well, less anxious.”

“Maybe you _should_ be anxious. Konoe, I’ve never seen a cat kill as easily as he does. I kill without hesitation, but with that one, there’s something different about him. Maybe he isn’t a cat.” 

That statement makes me nervous. How would Rai be able to tell? He isn’t familiar with magic. So why would he know anything about this? _I_ can tell—because I use magic as a Sanga. But Rai? What the hell?

“If he’s not a cat, what do you think he is?” 

“Is he what the Meigi worship?” Rai asks, keeping his voice quiet. “Is he a devil? He looks and smells like a devil, and he moves like one.”

Fuck! Rai is a lot more observant than I give him credit for. Now I don’t know what to say.

“Look, I don’t want to do anything with anyone but you. You understand this, don't you? You _know_ I don’t have a choice!”

“I could take you away from here,” Rai says quietly.

“No—you couldn’t. That would be kidnapping and there would be a bounty on your head if you did. This is the _last_ night, Rai. Once I get through this, it will be over.” Also, I’m not as afraid of Nano as Rai seems to be. Is that because of that spell? Maybe he’s right and I should be frightened. 

“I know, but I don’t like the idea of him touching you! If he is a demon—”

“Then what? _You_ won’t want me if a _demon_ fucks me?” I have officially lost my temper. I don’t have any say over what happens to me tonight, and I know I cannot get out of it. If I could have, I wouldn’t be standing here now! And I know Rai knows and understands this.

“N-no, that’s not it…”

“Then you have to sit on your hands and shut your mouth!” I blurt, letting my frustration show. I don’t understand what Rai’s problem is with Nano—unless… what if Nano is _right_? About Rai not really returning my feelings? What if he too is here on orders from Setsura to bring me back with him at all costs? I might not _ever_ be able to return to my own kingdom to see to its rule. And no one has stated their direct intentions—at least not to me. How am I supposed to know if what he tells me is true?

Rai looks down at me and then pulls me into his arms. He grooms my ears tenderly and whispers into them, after nipping the tip of one.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I’m jealous. This is _your_ decision—and you need to do what is best for you. But I don’t want to lose you to the Meigi. I’ve never seen you fight like that—not even when you were paired with me. I’m worried.” 

His tone definitely rings true and genuine, and his words soften my anger. It’s hard for me to believe that Rai doesn’t truly _want_ to be with me. I sigh softly and let my body melt against him for a second.

“Rai, if I choose you, where would you want me to live?” 

“What?” He asks. He truly seems flabbergasted by the question.

“Would you remain at my side, here in Sisa, or would you want me to return to Setsura with you?” 

“Well, of course, you need to rule your own kingdom at some point. I would _love_ to take you to see my home, though—and I want to show you the guiding leaf grove. I want you to experience our winter, which is much colder than here. But you won’t be ruling for some time, right? I know you have more to learn about governing. However, I think you need to spend some time away from the castle and your parents to discover yourself. I want to be with you while you do.”

“So, you’d want to spend time in both places?” I confirm.

“If you would be willing, yes. But I understand that Sisa will be my home as soon as you come into power.”

I sigh and purr, pushing my nose against his chest.

“Do you not wish to leave the castle? I would never force you, of course—but my nation will _adore_ you. They’d want to meet you in person. Does this worry you? How can I ease your mind?” 

“It’s not that I need you to ease my mind, really,” I say softly. “It’s that I haven’t considered what the options would be. And if I choose you as my Touga, I will have to submit to you and do as you ask.”  
  
“Konoe, look at me.” Rai lifts my chin gently, making me meet his pale blue eyes. “Think of your parents. Though your dad, Shui, is a Sanga, there is no question who rules this land. I see myself having a relationship balanced in power like theirs is. I don’t want to lord it over you.”

“But Leaks is a sorcerer, not a Touga!”

“Wouldn’t that mean Leaks holds even _more_ power than Shui? And yet, they have still found balance, haven’t they?”

“I suppose so,” I murmur. Although Papa is awfully fond of those beatings of late. I wonder if Dad feels the same.

Our conversation is interrupted by a pair of footsteps, and I flatten my ears when I turn around. It’s my _parents_. Papa does not look pleased with me at all, and Dad’s face falls in disappointment. My stomach feels heavy as stone, and my mouth feels dry.

“Sweetheart,” the dreaded nickname comes from Dad’s mouth, making me shudder, “what are you doing out here?”

“Konoe, tonight is the last evening of the ritual. You will have tomorrow to choose between your guests. To me, it looks like you’re screwing things up,” Papa growls. His tone frightens me. But before _dinner_? He’s going to punish me again—and before dinner! I won't be able to sit comfortably! I start to tremble uncontrollably.

“Please—we were just _talking_!” I say. I’m awfully upset, taking notice of where we are, considering all the empty rooms around here into which I could easily be pulled and punished for this infraction. Or perhaps they will discipline me in the dining room. I certainly don’t want _anyone_ to see this—especially not Rai! My ass starts to tingle just thinking about it, and Papa is rubbing his temple in irritation. 

“Save it for tomorrow,” Dad says, addressing Rai. “This is not your night. Please go ahead to dinner while we deal with our son.”

Rai hesitates—and doesn’t move from his spot. In fact, he grips my arm tightly.

“I won’t leave him with you,” he says—his voice quiet and firm.

Papa growls—much louder than the first time.

“I realize you think you have feelings for our son, but this is _not_ your night! You have no business here. Not now! Get your ass into the dining room before we withdraw Setsura from the selection process!”

I hear a low growl from Rai, and I’m still shaking. I would hate that! I would rather deal with my parents’ discipline than see Rai disqualified.

“Please,” I whisper. “Just _go_. I will be fine. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Of _course_ it concerns me! I can’t stand by idly and watch your parents abuse you for something that was my doing!” Rai retorts. “I won’t leave you.”

“This is unnecessary.” A new voice interrupts our conversation—it’s smooth and almost flat in tone. It’s Nano. Oh, _shit_ —he caught us together before dinner (after noticing that I had spent some time with Rai this morning as well), and I feel my ears heating up in shame. “Don’t be concerned, Silver Touga. I will watch out for the little musical kitten. Rest assured. He is safe with me.” He reaches out and touches Rai’s arm, and Rai relaxes suddenly.

To my surprise, Rai drops his glare at my parents and then looks at me, relaxing the grip on my arm. He tips my face up to his and drops a chaste kiss on my nose. Without saying anything else, he walks into the dining room and the doors close behind him.

Did Nano do that? Did he enchant Rai? Was it that same spell he uses on me?

“I apologize for our son,” Dad says, bowing his head. “Please forgive his impulsive behavior and blatant disrespect.”

“He knows better—he has been _taught_ better. Until recently, Konoe has been an obedient child,” Papa explains. “This week has been difficult.”

“Of course it has,” Nano returns. “No apologies are necessary.”

“We have warned him to stay away from the Setsuran more than once,” Dad says.

“It is our responsibility to teach him not to disobey or defy our orders,” Papa says. “This rebelliousness needs to be stopped now. We were perhaps overly indulgent in raising him, and it is certainly showing.”

My parents are talking about me as though I’m not even in the room—as though I’m a spoiled child—and it’s humiliating! I’d almost rather they just beat me instead of berating me like this in front of others—except I’m sure Papa has it in mind to use his belt. Then, I’ll be sitting through dinner with my ass welted and sore—and be expected to do the gods only know what afterward with the Meigi.

“That is unnecessary,” Nano says, taking my arm. “I’d like to enjoy the kitten’s company over a meal, and upsetting his digestion won’t help the conversation.” 

With those words, he boldly leads me between my parents, who look on with shocked expressions, and into the dining room, nodding politely. My body is still shaking fearfully as I pass by, and I lower my ears and tail. But I do not fight the Meigi.

He leads me to our table and pulls out the chair for me to sit down.

“Sit.”

“Um, th-thank you,” I murmur.

Nano takes a seat across from me and pours me a glass of wine. I take it gladly and watch him pour himself a glass as well. 

“I’m s-sorry,” I whisper. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Nano asks, his face still a neutral mask. His eyes are midnight blue at the moment.

“Wh-why d-did you step in on m-my b-behalf?” I stammer, keeping my voice quiet. “Why d-did you interfere?” A part of me is worried that _he_ will want to punish me instead of my parents, but I’m afraid to ask directly. 

“No punishment was necessary. You are a compliant and obedient kitten. Your parents have unreasonable expectations,” he replies frankly.

Our conversation pauses for a moment while servers bring out the first course. My parents have entered as well and are seated at a table some distance from us, and they are watching me closely. My ears are still lowered and hot. I’m ashamed—not for spending time with Rai and speaking to him—but because I was _caught_.

“Thank you,” I repeat, looking up at the Meigi once again. I see a shimmer of purple flash through his eyes before they return to their original midnight shade.

Looking around the room, I see Asato and Tokino are both surprised to see me at dinner. I haven’t been at dinner for a few days, now, and I nod politely toward them. I can almost see hearts and flowers sparkling in Asato’s eyes.

“The Kiran adores you. How will you choose between him and the Setsuran?” Nano asks pleasantly.

“I-i’m not quite sure,” I say, pushing my salad around the plate to make it look like I’m eating something. Nano didn't include himself in my choice. Instead, I take another gulp of wine, finishing the glass. Standing up, I walk to Nano’s side of the table and offer him another glass before pouring myself another. He accepts—and I feel his hand resting on my thigh—the inside of it, over the top of my clothes, while I pour the wine. His fingers brush over the bite on my leg, making me shiver.

“They are both possessive, and neither of them wants you here with me.”

I bristle my fur slightly, and Nano looks up at me. He never bristles his fur. It’s strange. But I don’t know how to respond to his statement. 

Soon the second course is brought out, and I notice Rai is watching me carefully—watching our interactions—and he looks anxious and a little confused. It’s kind of a sweet expression, I think—a very young-looking expression—one I haven’t seen from him before. I try to send him an encouraging smile. I can feel disapproval from my parents.

“I don’t think Rai liked your spell,” I say conspiratorially.

“No. He does not enjoy giving up his free agency.” Nano seems to be enjoying the meal, and after the next bite, he says, “Kitten, your song is lovely and powerful. It is filled with your character and your innocence. Did you connect with all your Tougas the way you did with me?” 

“Um, I tried to,” I say. “I could hear Rai, Asato, and Tokino—what they were feeling during our battle. Bardo could hear me but I couldn’t hear him—almost as if he cut his feelings off from me. And Shiki—well, he didn’t give me a chance in the arena. Afterward, though, in the bedroom, I was able to connect with him.”

“I see. That power makes you irresistible in their eyes. And it’s to your benefit if you can read their feelings. Could you tell if there was anything hidden or sinister with either the Setsuran or the Kiran?”

“I don’t think so.”

“This evening I would like to take advantage of my power and show you what you can do to see if either of these Tougas would be ideal partners for you.”

“Your magic, you mean?” I ask.

Nano looks at me and doesn’t answer.

“Do I need to give you more, um, of my blood?” I whisper. “I’ve never seen or heard of magic like that.”

“Don’t concern yourself with that.” Nano looks at my plate. “Do you dislike the food?”

“Oh, um—I’m just not very hungry.” I’m not, actually. I’m going to have to have sex with the cat sitting across from me in a little while, and I narrowly escaped a punishment moments ago. When I look back at Papa, I wonder if I _have_ escaped it or if it’s only been delayed. It’s concerning. What would be the point, though? He could whip me tomorrow—either before or after I make my choice—but what would be the point?

“You worry about pleasing them. It’s a fruitless endeavor. Their expectations are unreasonable.”

My ears flatten at these words and I glance up at him. Is he saying I’m a terrible son? Is it a hopeless task to even try to please my parents because of how horrible I am?

His expression softens into a smile. 

“That says more about them than it does about you. You should live your life as you see fit.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter—but right after the words come out of my mouth, the memories that flashed through my mind this afternoon make an unwelcome appearance. Maybe he _does_ know something about suffering and the fruitless task of trying to please those who will never be pleased. And has something happened to my parents? Have they changed? Or have they always been this way and I’ve just never seen it? I don’t know. 

“F-forgive me,” I add quickly. “I-i have n-no right to speak to you that way.”

Nano lifts his chin slightly and looks down at me. I have a really hard time reading his expressions. I don’t ever know what he is thinking. We get quiet for a little while and soon, dessert is brought out. I can’t resist kuim sorbet—it’s nice and cool, melting on my tongue—the mint garnish is a perfect finishing touch. I have to hold back to keep myself from licking the bowl, but I do lick my fingers rudely at the table. 

“Are you ready to learn what I have to teach?” Nano asks.

Anxiety floods my body once more, but I manage to boldly meet his gaze. It’s a lighter blue now. I nod my head.

He stands up from the table and walks to my chair to take my arm. I don’t meet anyone’s eyes when he leads me from the room to his chamber.


	23. Sisa v. Meigi Proper, Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe spends a rather enchanting night with the Meigi Touga.
> 
> There's sex in this chapter--surprisingly consensual, though Konoe is not allowed to decline.

Once the Meigi leads me to his chamber, he opens the door and ushers me inside. His room is dark with the fireplace being the only source of light—decorated in burgundy, a variety of shades and textures—which in itself makes me a little nervous. It reminds me of blood. I find myself in another room in my palace I didn’t know existed. 

He offers me a glass of something to drink—it looks slightly syrupy and amber in color. It smells slightly floral.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip. It’s very strong alcohol, I notice right away, as it burns my mouth and throat when I swallow. It's still surprisingly tasty, considering the kick. “Um, what is this?”

“This is a specialty spirit from my home country. It’s what we call the Nectar of Venus.” 

“It’s got an interesting taste,” I say. It would be rude not to drink it since he offered it to me, and he stands, watching me enjoy the liquor in small sips.

“It has an effect on the mind and libido as well.”

“Libido?” I ask, taking another sip. That's a word I remember hearing but I don't understand the context of it as far as how it relates to a beverage.

“Yes. Your sexuality and lust. We call it a love potion.”

“Ah,” I say, taking the last swig of it and feeling the burn as it travels into my stomach. It isn’t till after I swallow that I realize the meaning of his words. “Wait—did you just give me an aphrodisiac?” My ears flatten nervously. 

“I did. I know you would rather be with the silver Touga tonight, or any other night for that matter. This will make it easier for me to teach you what you need to learn.” His voice is flat. 

“Um,” I’m not sure what to say, but I know what I am _expected_ to say. I have to say it, or I might get in trouble. “Prince Nano, it is my sole desire to please you this evening.” 

“So you say. And yes, a part of you wants to please me, if only because you fear repercussions from your parents and because you are a sweet kitten. I don’t hold it against you.”

He begins to strip off his clothes—rather efficiently, I notice. The robe comes off easily after he unties the belt, leaving him in those slim-fitting leathers he was wearing. But these are a little different than the suit I saw before. Does he have more than one set? I wonder if he always wears those leather underneath his robe. He sure does have a nice shape. I find myself intrigued and I watch as he undresses. 

“I will require a little more blood from you. The third time I take it should be easier on you—especially now that you have consumed the Nectar of Venus.” 

To my surprise, he slips out of the leathers and is wearing _nothing_ underneath. Soon, he stands before me completely nude, not hiding any part of his body. I see he has significant scarring on his chest—a _lot_ of scarring—and also around his neck, on his arms, and legs. While nothing looks fresh, the scars look like they were made with a knife or blade of some kind—as though he was deliberately decorated with these markings. 

The thought is terribly painful—I saw that memory of his, in fact. His skin is a creamy ivory, and those scars appear white. They do not detract from his eerie beauty, however. He is approaching me quite quickly, pushing me down to the chaise. 

He straddles me while I am still dressed—and the unexpected movement startles me. I fluff out my fur and feel my pupils dilate. My claws extend, too—which is rude and inappropriate, I know, but I can’t help it. My mouth feels wet, though—not dry like it usually does when I’m afraid. I lick my lips and notice my fangs are clearly on display. Am I feeling arousal? I’m not sure what to do with my hands.

“Relax, little Sanga,” Nano says softly, and he goes for my neck. At the place my neck and shoulder meet, I feel a warm damp sensation—his tongue—licking me several times. I relax my body, but blood and desire pool in my lower half. It would be impossible for me not to respond to this tender touch. I reach out to his hair and close my eyes, intending to run my fingers through his silky, golden brown curls and then caress his ears. 

That’s when his fangs sink into my neck—and a quiet meow slips out of my mouth in protest, my body stiffening in fear. It’s not a natural thing to allow _any_ creature to bite you, but I submit as best as I can. This is what my role is right now, I try to convince myself. 

I hear him licking and swallowing the blood that is leaking out of the wound at my neck, and his lips make a vulgar-sounding slurping noise. The noise should bother me, and while it _is_ unsettling, but it’s also strangely thrilling. I keep my eyes closed and comb my hands through his hair to where his ears should be—and they are _gone_.

In their place—I feel out a solid pair of horns.

In shock, my eyes pop open, and sure enough: he no longer has soft cat ears. Instead, a pair of shiny black horns sit on top of his head as though they have always been there. He is still softly swallowing my blood, and I bristle my fur.

He really _is_ a demon.

I run my hands through his hair, swallowing down my apprehension and trying not to panic, and I feel fleshy protrusions on the sides of his head, pointed sharply at the top. Those must behis real ears. Is this his true form? He walks through the castle looking like a cat during the day when his true form is quite different. I also startle at something I am _sure_ is a snake—but it’s only his tail, undulating slowly behind him, smooth, shiny and black with a small spaded tip.

If I were acting like my normal self, Iwould be panicking: there is a devil on my lap—and he’s naked and sucking my blood. I don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol or if he is casting some sort of spell on me, but I cannot panic or move. I do not feel that afraid, actually. Well—I am terrified, but the lust building slowly inside me is overpowering that fear.

After a few minutes, Nano stops drinking my blood, licking the wound several times. I don’t feel any blood dripping down my throat or chest. He pulls away, still sitting on my lap, and he smiles, showing fangs that look longer than they were earlier today. I’m sure of it! A cat his size would never have fangs that long! 

He runs his fingers through the fur on my ears—which are still completely bristled—then down the sides of my face to my neck, where he reaches my cravat. His fingers feel strange on my skin—it’s like the blood in my body floats up to the surface and tingles with electricity when he brushes his fingertips across my skin. It’s such a strange sensation—almost as though something under my skin is craving his touch. He unties my cravat while watching my face, and then drops it carelessly onto the floor. Then, he unbuttons my waistcoat and my blouse—taking his time.

He is undressing me in such a sensual way, and I am captivated by him. His eyes were sparkling a dark red just moments ago—red as blood, in fact—and now they are deepening to the original purple I’ve seen before. His pupils are drawn into slits, making my body react slightly fearfully. It makes me feel like prey.

I don’t protest, though. I just watch him and let him undress me.

He stands up and pulls off my shoes, then goes for my breeches, which he unbuttons and pulls off my body—also easily, even though he isn’t much bigger than I am. My body stays relaxed and submissive—I am not sure why—and I realize I _really_ want him to fuck me. This is different than the apprehension I felt around the other Tougas who have shared my bed—something feels very different about him than with any other cat I’ve slept with so far. I’m excited even if a little nervous. His body oozes with experience and control, and I’m incredibly curious. 

He pulls my stockings off with his claws—pulling the silk inside out—then he takes one of my feet in his hands and pops each toe into his mouth, one at a time. As though he is tasting me, I can feel his tongue wrapping up each one of my toes. It feels amazing—almost like he has his lips around my cock—which I find only slightly disturbing, considering how vulgar and lewd I am feeling.

A thick wet purr emanates from my body, low and deep, almost as deep as a growl. He pulls me to my feet and then reaches for my underwear and strips them off without hesitation. He kneels before me—which in itself is _incredibly_ hot—and I close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair, touching the tips of his horns. 

He licks both the wounds he left earlier on the insides of my thighs—one has bruised quite a bit, but the other is healing well. His tongue touching me there only increases my arousal. I kind of want him to take my cock into his mouth, but I am too shy and embarrassed to ask for it. 

Then he brings himself back up to stand and meets my gaze. His eyes are a royal purple color now—as purple as his robes were—his pupils still narrowed. I shiver as he takes my chin gently.

“Are you ready to learn what I have to teach you?” 

His voice is much softer if still a little flat. But there’s anticipation under his breath that makes my skin prickle in eagerness.

“Um, yes,” I say quietly. He’s being so tender and gentle with me, I can hardly imagine what letting him fuck me will be like. Will he take me hard? Will he bother preparing me? Or will he keep up this current gentle tenderness? “P-please—don’t hurt me.” 

“Little Sanga, pain is not what I have in store for you this evening,” he assures me, pushing me down into the bed. He urges me to lean against the pillows on the headboard as he straddles my thighs. He is also already aroused—and he smells so good. His scent has changed, I notice—a very sweet, fruity scent is coming from his body, and it makes my mouth water.

He touches his lips with my own and kisses me—gently at first—letting me take the lead, which shocks me. He tastes sweet as well, a lot like the liquor I just drank. I explore those sharp fangs with my tongue, trying to stroke the back of his mouth and sighing softly when I hear a quiet purr from him. I have my eyes closed, but I feel him climbing up closer on my lap, but I don’t feel either of his hands on my body.

I caress him freely, running my fingers down his back, tracing the scars I find there, and he shivers slightly. I touch that strange, hairless tail while I am kissing him, too. It’s smooth—not covered in scales like a snake—but _perfectly_ smooth. Sometimes the tail shivers underneath my fingers, and it’s such a strange sexual feeling that pools with the rest of my desire at my waist. I also touch his horns and his ears, still amazed that something that is not a cat is in bed with me. 

He towers over me quite suddenly, so I lift my chin to meet his lips, continuing the gentle kissing and my caresses. His ass is muscular and perfect—and I don’t feel any scars on the skin there. 

Suddenly I feel a hand on my cock. I’m hard and dripping, but it’s as if his hands are moving my dick, not caressing it—and his touch is gentle and so nice. It makes me gasp with pleasure into his mouth. To my shock, I feel something very hot pressing at the tip of my dick.

“Oh, my gods,” I whisper quietly when I realize what he is doing. When I open my eyes, he’s lifted himself to his knees, and he’s lined up my cock with his entrance. My fur bristles and my pupils narrow to slits and then dilate fully. He actually wants _me_ to fuck _him_?

“W-wait,” I protest. “Wh-what are you doing?” But I feel my cock being surrounded by his tight warmth—and he leans his weight back, impaling himself on my erection, sending shudders of absolute ecstasy down my spine.

He is watching me, watching my face, not speaking except for small panting breaths that escape his lips sensually—and I feel his body sinking around me as though he is swallowing me whole. It feels so nice—being surrounded by such heat. Is this what it always feels like to be on the other end? Do I feel like this to Rai, I wonder? There is no pain or discomfort—just an overwhelming pleasure that feels even better than a mouth. He is tight, but I don’t feel much resistance. 

Another strange sound comes from my chest—and _not_ some pitiful-sounding meow this time. This is a beast-like growl: raw, animalistic, and a little frightening. My fangs bare, and I nip his lips lightly. He has a small smile on his face—but my gods, he feels _amazing_.

This feels like a dream—because isn’t he supposed to be the one doing this to _me_? My abdomen is hot and tight, and I am truly enjoying the sensations. Even when he just breathes, I can feel him pressing and changing around my cock. Every little movement sends pleasure into my body, making me gasp for breath. 

Soon, he is resting his body on top of my thighs, and I feel completely engulfed and surrounded. I can feel when Nano shifts his body even a little, and so when he rocks his hips gently, I cry out in pleasure. It really feels amazing!

He just continues smiling softly at me, watching my face, reaching his fingers to my face, lifting up my chin to meet his lips. He is rocking his hips, making me purr and sigh and gasp. He feels so nice inside—soft and smooth—a perfect fit. I am _meant_ to be here. He makes me feel like I belong inside of him.

Then he lifts up to his knees and drops down a little harder against me, and I feel like I am melting. But soon, my hips pick up his rhythm and match it—and when I hear a pleasured moan from his lips, those deep violet eyes meeting mine so boldly, I don’t think I will last very long. I should probably warn him—if I can manage to catch my breath.

I grab his tail with my left hand, letting my fingers skate down its length, and with my other hand, I encircle his cock, already wet with precome and dripping lewdly. I allow him to fuck my hand, occasionally pressing my hand into the tip of his dick. He makes a small sighing purr when I do this, so I keep going. 

“Mmm—I can’t—last very—much longer,” I sigh against his mouth. My heart feels like it might burst.

And when I say those words, he starts moving with even more force. I gasp in surprise and find my hips are thrusting up to meet him. A quiet purring moan escapes his lips, and he tightens around my cock. Is that the place inside me that I feel so well, too?

Being in this position—the one entering him, rather than _being_ entered—makes me feel full of power. And with the power comes an incredible feeling of responsibility and _care_. I become slightly insecure about how long I think I can last and if I will be able to satisfy him. Those feelings are bubbling up inside me desperately, looking to escape. 

My chest aches when my song pours out—and it sounds so different from usual. Though my skin is humming and my bones are vibrating, my melody indicates that I want _him_ to feel good—as good as he is making me feel—but even as the “top,” I realize I am _still_ not doing much. I feel almost helpless, almost as though he is taking me against my will—except that I _want_ to be here with him and I am inside of him, rather than being upside down.

His scent increases and he lowers his lips to my throat—the other side from the one he bit earlier—and he slowly sinks his fangs into my neck. He drinks from me as though this nourishes him—just like he is acting as though our physical connection is nourishing him. It raises goosebumps on my shoulders. Strangely, the bite doesn’t hurt. If anything, it brings me closer to the edge, making me shiver with pleasure.

I feel him contracting his insides around me a little more with each thrust—when suddenly, he is grabbing me so tight I can hardly move. A sound—a moan mixed with a gasp—escapes his mouth, and he releases my neck from between his teeth, and I feel his cock spill into my hand—hot and wet. The tightness around my own cock becomes unbearable, and I release inside of his body.

It’s a strange sensation—being contained during my climax—and I rock my hips slowly, shuddering with pleasure that flows from my waist through the rest of my body. My song fades into something soft and dreamy, but it doesn’t entirely disappear. He licks my neck and chest a few times—I feel slim trails of blood dripping down my body which he is lapping up, and I let my body collapse back into the sheets and against the pillows. 

I’m utterly incapacitated as soon as my song finishes.

“Little Sanga, your song during sex is so different from your battle song. It holds just as much power, however. You have a beautiful voice.”

Nano stands up, pulling me out of him—and I am still slightly stiff. It feels so cold outside of his body now—so strange.

I am purring almost lewdly and I feel like a very sensual creature—sexier than I have ever felt, even _after_ climaxing. Nano grabs a towel to clean up—but instead of using it on me, he leans down and licks my cock. It’s an incredibly sensitive feeling—and it makes me feel helpless and vulnerable—as though he is consuming me. I still cannot move, which adds to my feelings of defenselessness. It's not entirely unwelcome, however.

Soon, however, he moves me in the bed, pulling me down off the pillows and he wraps me up in his arms, pulling me on top of his chest. My ears are right by his mouth and he speaks quietly to me.

“This is what your lover would allow—what he would do for you—if he is sincere about his feelings. You need to take hold of the power you have and insist on being his equal, despite what you have been taught about servitude and submission.”

My ears twitch when I think of this. Would Rai allow me to touch him like this? I can’t imagine it—but the thought is _incredibly_ hot.

“You’ve exhausted yourself, and you know now what I have come to teach you. Now sleep.”

Nano continues grooming my ears and stroking my back, and I turn my head to the side and listen to his slow and steady heartbeat. His body is warm—and as muscular as he is, he is soft and comfortable, melting around me. I feel claws in the fur on my tail as I drift off to sleep.


	24. Decisions, part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe decides to tell Rai what he wants, and it turns out to be a lot harder than he anticipates--especially with Rai's gentle teasing.
> 
> After an awkward breakfast, and another encouraging talk with Nano, Konoe gathers his courage to face the Setsuran.

I sleep well that night, and when I wake in the morning, Nano has returned to his normal cat-like appearance. He is awake before I am, stroking my back gently. He doesn’t say much—and I am feeling slightly awkward as well. That’s natural, I suppose—the morning after you sleep with someone you barely know.

He helps me with my morning bath—leading me into the bathing chambers, washing my hair and conditioning my fur, and rinsing off. I am watching him—his eyes appear midnight blue this morning—and he seems relaxed and a little different from yesterday.

He also helps me dress, pulling a robe from his chamber’s wardrobe onto my shoulders.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your rooms?” Nano asks. “Or would you prefer some time alone?”

I consider it—last night was the last night I will ever have to sleep with someone because my parents have told me to do so.

“Perhaps I could use some time to think,” I admit. I wouldn’t mind his company, however. His presence isn’t distracting or intimidating to me anymore—well, it’s slightly intimidating when I consider who he is, but I now know he means me no harm.

I nod farewell, and Nano kisses the tips of my ears and my nose and sends me on my way. As I’m heading down the hallway, however, I am immediately grabbed and pulled into another room.

The scent of the cat touching me is enchanting. By now, I recognize this scent as well as this touch.

“What happened to you last night?” Rai murmurs into my ear. He has my body pulled up against his, and he feels nice. I find that I am slightly aroused from Nano’s care this morning, and I am feeling amorous.

“Oh, he was kind to me,” I say. “I, um, well. It was unexpected.”

“I heard your song. I couldn’t help hearing it. And you’ve _never_ sung to me like that.”

Is this _jealousy_ I hear in his tone? I look up to meet his gaze, and he is looking down at me accusingly. I can’t help the smile blooming in my face. I’m pleased.

“What? Is something amusing?”

“No,” I say, still smiling. “My song was different because you’ve never done what he did to me. Or perhaps I should say, you haven’t yet let me do what he allowed me to do.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes. Perhaps if you did I might sing for you in that way as well.”

“What did he do to you?”

“Well, as I said, it wasn’t so much what he did,” I explain, trying to keep my words vague. “It’s more what _I_ did to him.” 

“Really?” I see Rai’s tail in the corner of my eye, fully bristled. Because I’m standing so close, I can’t see the top of his head, but I’m sure his ears are doing the same.

“Yes, really.” 

“Did you enjoy it?” His voice is slightly softer now—and a little seductive, too. 

“I did. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I couldn’t help thinking if that is how you feel when you… um, well, you know.”

I glance down at my feet, feeling my cheeks and ears heating up. And he licks my ears roughly when I do this.

“You can’t be singing a song like that and then blush so innocently the next day, Konoe,” he whispers in my ear. He hums softly before he continues, “I know you better than that.”

“Well, I’ve decided _that_ will be a requirement of the Touga I choose,” I say firmly.

“ _What_ will be a requirement?” Rai asks, tilting up my face to his again. He is smiling now. “I don’t think it should be a requirement if you can’t even ask for exactly what you want.”

“Hmph,” I growl a little, baring my fangs. “I can _so_ ask for what I want.”

“Can you? Then go ahead. Your wish is my command.” 

Those words send a shiver down my spine and into my tail.

“In that case,” I say, clearing my throat a little, “I require that my Touga will, erm, wait. Let me start again. I want to be able to…”

And I _can’t_ say it. I am mortified and my cheeks are hot, and still, Rai smiles down at me. 

“Do you want me to help you?” Rai asks, gently nudging my ears with his nose.

“No!” I snap. “I can say it myself.”

“Whatever you ask for, I will comply,” Rai murmurs again, and it’s terribly distracting. I think he might be teasing me at this point, though, and though my body is distracted and hot, I feel a little irritated by his remarks.

“I don’t have the same experience you do!” I snap.

“I know. It’s very sweet to see you doing your best.”

I grumble a little instead of replying. 

“But you know, if you _were_ to ask, I would do whatever it is you desired.”

“I don’t have time for you mocking me so openly before breakfast! I need to get changed.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Rai says, taking my arm and pulling me out of the room. We are headed to my chamber, I believe. “Maybe if your feet get moving you can tell me what it is you want.”

“I think you know,” I say, still pouting.

“Of course I do. But you need to be able to ask for what it is that you want, in any case. I am no mind reader,” Rai purrs softly. “I can read your body, but not your mind.”

“What?!” I’m slightly appalled and stop my feet, but I am simply dragged on behind him since Rai laughs and doesn’t say anything else. “Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not,” Rai says, his voice soft. “I only want you to be happy and comfortable enough to tell me anything.”

“Oh.” I feel sort of bad for being so annoyed.

He brings me into my room, where my staff is already waiting for me.

“Would you like me to stay?”

“I would, but it might be inappropriate if we came into breakfast together. Plus I need to figure out how to express my desires to you. Having you here is distracting.” 

Rai chuckles slightly.

“I haven’t lost my touch then.”

He leans down and kisses me—deeply—on the lips, in front of my staff. I hear soft applause behind me, and that makes me even more embarrassed, and my tail flicks back and forth to indicate my emotions. But I also love this attention. I think he is sweet and wonderful. And I am confident I will be able to talk to him.

“I’ll see you at breakfast. And perhaps afterward, you might tell me what it is you desire, and I will be able to accommodate your wish.”

Another obvious shiver rushes down my spine like electricity.

“All right,” I say softly.

"When you shiver like that in front of me, it makes me want to ignore what comes out of your mouth and do things to you," he says, a slight warning in his voice. He brushes my cheek, which blushes deeply.

He takes his leave, and I am left to be dressed.

"Do things to you? My gods, sire! I'd do anything to have that guy treat me as he treats you!" Jacques muses once the door is closed.

“So—how would I go about this?” I ask Jacques. “Suppose I wished to, um, switch roles while I am in the bedroom with my partner. How would I make such a suggestion?”

Jacques just stares at me for a few minutes, mouth open wide.

“Sire?”

“Just answer the question as if I were a friend, not the prince,” I urge. I am embarrassed I have to even ask. 

“Well, sire, if your lover is kind he would, of course, comply,” Jacques says. “Is there a reason you can’t just say, ‘I want to make love to you’ or ‘I want to top this time’?”

It doesn’t occur to me till I'm sitting at breakfast later that Jacques knows that isn’t my usual role, so I’m not offended at the moment.

“Is that clear enough? ‘I want to make love to you’?” I ask.

“If you’re unsure, just tell him you’d like to take the lead and you want to top,” Jacques assures me. “I’m sure he will comply.”

“Oh, he’d better or I won't choose him,” I say. 

Jacques looks at me doubtfully.

“Well, sire, I am sure you have your preferences. But keep in mind that people who seem inflexible may change over their lives, too.” 

“I don’t want to be with someone who expects me to always fulfill the same role,” I say.

“Well, you have an excellent example with your parents,” Jacques says.

That’s the _last_ thing I want to think about—between my fathers, who is the usual top and who is the bottom? I can’t imagine Papa Leaks ever submitting to anyone—although, sometimes, the way he looks at Dad is so loving. Maybe he _would_ be flexible?

I get a shudder down my back and shoulders when I think about what my parents do in the bedroom. It’s none of my business!

“All right, you look perfect, sire. You have behaved admirably throughout this entire ordeal and you have made your country proud,” Jacques assures me.

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. I feel different today than I have in a long time. I feel like I actually wield some power of my own—and that my purpose is something other than being simply used to satiate some stranger's lust and desires. I feel like I have a choice to make now—and it is mine, and mine alone. 

Holding my head high—a gold circlet woven in my hair—I head down to breakfast.

I’m slightly disappointed when my table isn’t there, and instead, I am made to visit each of the visiting Tougas. Again.

First, Dad leads me to Rai’s table. I serve tea and take a few bites, chatting casually with the Setsuran prince, and I don’t get near enough time with him. I also don’t get a chance to tell him what I want before I’m whisked away to Asato’s table. 

He serves me tea—and I wonder if he would let me take the lead in the bedroom. He is kind, too—and we worked well together. Though he hasn’t been flouting the rules of these proceedings as Rai has been. That makes me feel that he may not be as interested in me.

Dad wanders off for a moment, and I take the moment to try to ask Asato what he thinks about switching roles. But I can’t find the words and stumble over my own tongue.

“What do you think about—er, what would you think if I, um…?”

“If you what?” Asato asks, looking up with those deep blue eyes.

“Well. I was thinking if I were to do something different—”

“What sort of different thing?”

“I mean in the bedroom. Would you be open to it?”

“I’m open to anything Konoe wants,” Asato says.

“Like, um…” All I have to say is “switching roles,” and I can’t bring myself to say it.

Asato seems completely unaware of what I’m asking, and I lift up my gaze, discouraged and ashamed for not being able to talk about this, and I happen to meet Rai’s eye—which is glued on me. I can see his eye wandering up my face to my ears, which are blushing deeply, and he covers his mouth to hide his smile. 

Even from his place over there, he is making fun of me!

I don’t get a chance to finish my conversation with Asato before Dad whisks me over to Tokino.

“It looks like last night went well for you,” Tokino says. “I’m glad to see you were unharmed.”

“Um, thank you,” I say. What I am supposed to say about that? “And thanks again for letting me see my kingdom.”

“I am still awful sorry I got you in trouble. I really didn’t mean to do that—I thought you’d be doing well in obeying me and you’d please your parents,” Tokino whispers.

I think for a moment about the evening I spent with Tokino. He was into my total submission—which was very hot and nice—but because I already felt powerless, I wonder if it would mean more to me if I could take the lead sometimes. I decide not to broach the subject, however. I can’t bring myself to do it, and just eat quietly, listening to him chatter.

Then, Dad brings me to Nano’s table. The incubus (I now know that is what he is) sits and drinks tea, eating very little. He watches me carefully.

“Have you discovered what your prospective Tougas think of your wish?” His words are bold and quite inappropriate for discussion over a meal. I suddenly realize that’s part of the reason I couldn’t talk about this with Asato.

“Um, I think so—but he wants me to state it directly. He said my wish is his command but that he cannot read my mind.”

“Hmm. Well, it makes sense,” Nano says thoughtfully. “Perhaps he is excited by words and is interested in hearing you telling what you’d like to do to him. I recommend going into it in great detail, in that case.”

My ears flush again and flatten against my head. I feel like his advice is slightly intrusive—or am I really such a prude?

“I couldn’t,” I say.

“If you couldn’t, then why should he comply?” Nano asks.

I guess he has a point. If I can’t even talk about it, why should I be allowed to _do_ it?

“Come to me if you need more practice. I can help you.”

“You can help me figure out what to say?”

“Of course. Or else remind you why you want to say what you want to say.” Nano takes another sip of tea. “All you have to do is tell him what you want to do to him and why. Perhaps if you said you wanted to take the lead, undress him slowly, bite him, lick him—and be sure to tell him where you would bite and lick—and then fuck him till he loses his mind in pleasure. You want to be able to give him everything he has given you.”

I find I am blushing even more now, and I stupidly glance over at Rai’s table. He is still watching me, and he is grinning behind his hand. I’m really annoyed.

“I, um, I find it hard to be so open,” I say. 

“You have been very sheltered and protected from this part of the world—and this kind of physical love—for a long time. It’s natural you’d feel that way. And yet, with a partner you trust, you should be able to ask for what you want and what you need.”

“I see,” I murmur, and I’m feeling pretty hopeless.

We finish the breakfast and head out of the room, and Rai catches up with me almost immediately. 

“How did your conversations go?” He asks, his voice gentle.

“Well, couldn’t you see for yourself?” I am slightly grumpy.

“All I am asking is that you learn to acknowledge your own desires and give them as much credit as you give to mine. I want you to feel and understand that you are on equal footing with me.” His voice remains soft and almost tender. “So. Do you want to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” I ask stubbornly.

“What you would like me to do to you,” Rai murmurs into my ear. I can feel his lips touching the tip of my ear when he speaks into it so softly. “Or even better, what you want to do to me.”

I also detect that hand that has been hovering at my arm moves to my waist, and it drops a little bit to brush the base of my tail. Another shiver makes me tremble, and I press my lips together to prevent anything vulgar from coming out.

“Anything of mine is yours,” Rai whispers. “Just… don’t go back to the Meigi.”

I glance up at those words, stopping my footsteps to look at his face. Rai looks hurt—and worried

“I don’t fight the way he does. I can’t move like that, I know. But whatever you and he did last night, I would be happy to do with you as well. There isn’t a _single_ thing that could come out of your mouth that would make you repulsive to me.”

I feel sorry when I see Rai’s expression. Did he worry so much yesterday? Does he think I am no longer interested in him?

I reach up both my hands and put them on his cheeks, pulling myself to my tiptoes so I can reach his lips. He obliges and lowers his face a little, and I find myself pulled into his arms and held tightly—I can feel his desire to make me feel secure.

“All right,” I say, when I pull my lips away from him. “But not here.”  
  
I lead him down the hall to my bedroom, push open the doors and pull him inside behind me.

“I want to take the lead,” I say, after bolstering my courage. I feel my ears going pink when I start speaking. “I want you to let me love you—to, um, let me, er, fuck you.”

“Ah, I see,” Rai says, his ears perked up on top of his head. “Of course.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” I ask, somewhat let down by his lack of shock. 

“I assumed we’d be doing things in, um, either direction. I just didn’t know you’d be so eager to try it with me. I’m thrilled.”

Thrilled? Really? I examine his face and see the smile on his lips. I think he means it. I stand up and lock the door to my room.

"What? Now?" He purrs softly.

“To keep my parents from intruding,” I say softly. “This will help me make up my mind.”

I walk over to Rai who is sitting on a chair and start by removing his cravat and unbuttoning his blouse. I can already hear him purring, deep in his chest.

 


	25. Sisa v. Setsura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet update to this fic, exploring what Konoe and Rai get up to after Konoe suggested doing this upside down, so to speak.
> 
> Trigger: consensual sex.

My morning with Rai seals my decision. He is my Touga, the one I will choose. While basking in a nice afterglow, I decide after our this most recent encounter to speak to my parents. 

* * *

 

First and foremost, he is as enthusiastic for trying this new position with me as I am—if not more so. In fact, he participates actively, which is also nice. It relieves a lot of pressure I am feeling. Once he strips out of his clothes, he helps me with my fumbling fingers. Despite my eagerness, I am nervous—about whether he will enjoy this and whether I will be any good. As a result, my natural klutz makes an unwelcome appearance. 

“You seem to be struggling with those buttons. Let me help you. You don't have to be so nervous.”

He swiftly unbuttons my shirt and smoothes it off my arms. I start blushing when he helps with my belt—and his actions leave me a little nervous, wondering if he is actually going to let me take the lead here.

I needn’t have worried.

He pulls me to the bed and pushes me down into the mattress, kissing me on the lips and stroking my tongue. But even his kissing is different from our previous encounters. While he may instigate the kiss, he lets me lead—and he seems very enthusiastic by my response. It puts me more at ease—that he trusts me. I’m not sure that trust is earned, however. I’m not exactly confident when it comes to the preparation or the act itself—I’ve never done any prep before. With Nano, he did it himself, but Rai insists on my active participation. 

Using the lube from my side table, he grabs my hand and brings it behind him, while he kneels over me. I am in a sitting position on the bed, rest with my back against the pillows, and having his thighs touch mine is pretty hot. I am feeling slightly strange, almost as though I have a fever, in fact. It’s a weird sensation. But any malaise seems oddly soothed when we touch.

I cover both hands in lube, stroking his cock with one hand and brushing against his entrance with the fingers of my other hand. Before I push a single finger inside, I am flooded with anxiety and hesitation. But I overcome it, and another new sensation to me floods me: I knew he’d be warm, but this is _hot_ , in both senses of the words. I let my finger press around inside him, careful not to draw claws. 

It isn’t long before I add a second finger, hoping to make him feel nice and watching his expression—and he is comfortable with that, it seems. He is watching my face as well, heatedly—almost intimidatingly, considering what I am doing to him right now. I scissor my fingers apart now, stretching him and just enjoying the strange feeling of him with my hands. I move my other hand from his cock to the base of his tail, giving it a soft tug. 

Instead of just letting me stretch and explore inside of him, he starts kissing me, stroking my tail and my body—touching me everywhere he can reach, kissing my ears—caressing every part of me except my dick. His touch is making me feel strangely impatient, and I wonder if this is how he feels when our roles are reversed. The fact that he has felt so intimately inside my body the way I am feeling him now makes my fur bristle and my ears twitch. It feels secret, and the secretiveness of the touch is oddly enticing.

While I am preparing him, he finally does reach out to my cock, wrapping his fingers around me and pressing his cock against me. He is feeling it as much as me if I can believe the passionate expression in his eyes. The smooth touch feels so nostalgic and reminiscent of our first time together that I get slightly distracted, and I end up adding my third finger a little too quickly. I am hooking my fingers slightly outside of his rim like has been done to me—to soften up that ring of muscle and make my penetration easier.

Only a few minutes after I press inside with three fingers, he adds a bunch more lube to my cock—and his by default—and then pulls my hand away. 

“Go ahead,” he whispers into my ear, that deep purr spilling inside along with his voice. And he lifts himself up onto his knees and leans back onto my cock. He is controlling the penetration—like Nano did with me and like Rai allowed me to do the second time we were together—and those other experiences start to blend together, making me feel like this isn’t really real or happening now.

To make myself stay here in the present, I look up at Rai’s face—his eyes are slightly unfocused and glazed over. I grab the base of his tail and his cock, massaging both firmly and pressing my thumb into his tip. I feel my ears blushing, and him staring at me is making it so much worse. I keep glancing up at him through my eyelashes to make sure he is all right.

“You can’t be looking so innocent and embarrassed if you’re doing this to me, you know,” Rai murmurs softly. I lean up and kiss his lips—mostly to avoid his gaze and to silence his teasing tone.

Truthfully, I am feeling less in control than I expected I would, which comes as a surprise to me. When I push into his body, I feel an incredible warmth wrapping up my cock—a warmth that spreads through my abdomen and spreads to my chest. It’s intimate being inside someone else’s body—a different kind of connection that when he enters me—unexpected and close. The intensity is nearly heartbreaking, I think. I can feel the strength of our bond a little better, too.

Suddenly Rai leans down to lick my cheek—and I notice I have tears spilling from my eyes.

“Are you all right?” He asks softly. 

“Oh—um,” I am embarrassed, actually. “Yes. You just feel so good.” Right after the words escape from my lips, a fresh blush floods my cheeks and ears. Rai leans down to lick my ears, so I know he sees my blush. “Is this okay?” I whisper, somewhat hesitantly against his throat.

“You feel perfect,” he purrs softly. And soon he’s resting his ass on my hips, his tail bristled and brushing against my legs. It feels like silk tickling me. I run my claws through it gently from base to tip. 

“Do you need a minute?” I ask, unsure of what exactly I should do next. I move my hands from his chest to his waist, letting my claws draw subtly. I think I want to keep one hand on his tail since he seems to like that. When I touch his tail, his insides pulse around me. I wonder—do I do that as well? Does he feel like this when he fucks me?

Instead of answering, he rocks his hips forward a little—and just that gentle movement nearly takes my breath away. I gasp out loud in surprise, unable to control myself. I can feel his insides pulse around me again when I release my voice, and it makes me want to move, too. For now, though, I let him take the lead—and soon he is raising himself up to his knees and dropping his body down on me. I take that as a hint and begin to move my hips as well and thrust into him from below. 

The experience is incredible. In addition to the overwhelming pleasure, I feel a strange sort of vulnerability and tenderness—perhaps because I am afraid of hurting him or because of my lack of confidence. But my fear starts fading quickly the more pleasure and lust flood my body. I want to take care of him and see to his pleasure if he is willing to give himself to me—and again, I find myself wondering if this is how he feels when our roles are reversed. As I start to thrust up inside of him, changing my angle slightly to see if I can find that sensitive spot, and I hear a small gasp escape his lips. 

When it reaches my ears, my cock hardens even more and I am flooded with the desire to get him to make that sound again. My fur bristles and I get goosebumps—and I repeat the motion and get the same effect. I am also making sounds—I can’t seem to have sex in any position without being incredibly noisy—and with Rai, despite my embarrassment, I don’t bother stifling my voice. I have to move more in this position I realize, but despite the responsibility that I feel, Rai is definitely doing his share as well.

My chest hurts—and I realize a song wants to escape—and so I allow it. Again, it feels like my song is being pulled from my body by the silver cat, and it feels so good when it escapes, almost an emotional climax of its own. The song is surprisingly sweet-sounding—considering what we are doing here—and is filled with tenderness.

When I meet his gaze, I feel the connection across our bonds. It’s a strange sensation since the bond still feels like it did when he first touched me. It doesn’t really feel like I’m in charge of things here. He is definitely _not_ submitting to me, I think—and if anything, it feels like I am submitting to him. But perhaps maybe I don’t _have_ to submit at all—and he certainly isn't insisting that I do. I wonder how much of these submissive feelings are inborn or were trained into my thinking along with my training as a Sanga.

It doesn’t really concern me much, however—and it makes me work a little harder. I am stroking his cock and tail and meeting his lips—his fangs bump against my lips and even that slight pain adds to the pleasure pooling in my waist. I am so close to my own climax—I want him to come soon, and he is watching my face carefully even as his eyes drift close each time I thrust up at that particular angle. 

“I want to come,” I say.

“I’m close, too.”

“Please,” I whisper, and he curves his body so he can kiss my chin, jaw, and throat. In short order, I feel him tightening up around me—and simultaneously I feel his purr extending in a loud gasp—almost a moan—and he spills into my hand when I squeeze his cock a little harder.

When his insides close up around me, it feels almost stifling. When I climax, I feel like he has pulled it from me rather than I let go—and I am flooded with a tingling pleasure and delight. My song starts to fade out, along with my energy—and I collapse down against the bed, completely spent and satisfied. 

He easily pulls himself off of me and curls up against my chest for a moment. He is covered with sweat and he smells so nice. I manage to lick his ears a few times before he shifts again.

“I haven’t done that in a long time,” he whispers. “It was quite interesting—do you feel like that when I take you, I wonder?”

I hum softly, purring loudly. I should probably be more surprised that he was thinking the same thing I was during our encounter, but I’m too exhausted. I would love to get up and see to his care—like he does for me with warm wet cloths—but I am unable to move and he doesn’t seem overly anxious about getting up. Instead, he pulls me onto my side and curls up behind me so he can reach my ears. 

Small tickling sensations spread from his tongue to my ears down my shoulders and spine, making my fur fluff out.

“I love how you’re so responsive, even _after_ we connect,” he whispers, making my ears twitch helplessly. 

I feel surprisingly vulnerable—and I wonder if that’s just my own reaction to sex or if he feels like this as well. I was expecting to feel more powerful and in control after this experience. But instead, I feel almost helpless. And I enjoy the feeling quite a bit, which is also a nice surprise.

“I have made my decision,” I whisper. “I want to choose you. Will you have me?”

I hear a soft chuckle in my ear. 

“Of course. It’s why I’m here. It would be my honor.”

“When I can move again, I will tell my parents I’ve made my decision.” But for now, I bask in the lovely sensations of grooming and relaxation, feeling very much like a cat I didn’t know I was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are approaching the conclusion of this fic, people! Thanks for sticking with me.


	26. Submission, part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another, slightly longer update. And we are nearing the end of this little tale, dear readers. And yes, this is my second update within 24 hours. Don't forget to read the chapter before this one. :)
> 
> Konoe has made his decision and visits his parents to inform them of his choice--Rai has made his way into Konoe's heart, and Konoe is excited to be freed from this obligation.
> 
> To his severe disappointment and heartbreak, it seems his parents have already made other plans. 
> 
> Triggers: Abuse. Severe abuse by parents. Please be warned! I'll leave a summary at the end.

It’s a little past lunchtime—which I enjoyed peacefully in my room, eating naked with my new lover and soon-to-be fiancé, Rai—before I prepared to visit my parents. I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted from my chest and I see a life of freedom and love unfolding before me. 

In some ways, I realize the irony, based on the experience I have been through this week. I am a different cat than I was last week—before the trial—and these days have been difficult and thought- and fear-provoking. But all in all, Dad was _right_ when he said he thought I might be lucky enough to fall in love. And not every experience was dreadful, even as humiliating as it was: being the object of barter to make relations work with other kingdoms is not very fun, but it is the fate of royal Sangas in Sisa.

I have kissed Rai goodbye, leaving him to get dressed in my chamber, while I decide to approach my parents as the newly awakened adult I am. Despite all my meowing and tears earlier this week, I feel I now have the authority to speak to my parents about my decision. I want to choose Rai as my permanent Touga and my husband, and they will respect me and my decision. I hope we will be married soon, too. I actually am excited to see Setsura—his kingdom—and get on with my new life. I might be a little excited to get away from my parents, as well.

After this morning, I’m confident that Rai loves me and respects me. Submitting to him is a pleasure. I can easily imagine being with him for the rest of my life. As I walk toward my parents’ chambers, I touch my ear softly—the last place Rai left his scent on me. I can still feel that rough tongue grooming my fur as he tried to tempt me to linger, preventing my escape.

I thought of taking Rai with me for support, but I realized this is something I must do alone. I want to confront my parents and have them acknowledge the sacrifice I have made for this kingdom, and I want to do it on my own two feet. I’m thrilled by the prospect of being able to see my kingdom, with Rai as my escort, and also travel throughout our allied kingdoms together. I feel so grown up and mature!

I can’t help smiling—my cheeks are a little sore, actually, from the strange expression I’ve had plastered on my face all morning. It’s a nice sensation, really, and a nice change from the furrowed brows I’ve had and have probably been made permanent over the last week. It doesn’t cross my mind to worry about the two suitors I’ve had who injured me. I’ve completed my side of the bargain, and I have a bounce in my step, and I smile at the servants who pass me in the hallways—probably those same servants who were listening outside the door each time my father whipped me into submission. 

But _no more_. The world is mine to take.

Still, when I arrive at my parents’ door, I hesitate a moment. A brief nostalgic feeling is unpleasantly flooding my body—almost reflexively—when I remember the last time I was here. My parents were upset with me for having left the castle. I was stripped and beaten with a hairbrush till my skin was raw—because I _submitted_ to the Touga just as I was I required. Tokino had taken me out on the town, and my parents were furious. I felt so discouraged, since I was well aware that I couldn’t have made _any_ decision that _wouldn’t_ have led to a beating. If I had refused Tokino, I would have been punished as well, since it was my job to please him.

No longer do I have to worry about pleasing my parents. I have done what they have asked of me, and I have earned my place as the rightful prince of Sisa. 

Sighing softly and shaking my ears to rid myself of the memory, I knock at the door confidently. I take a deep breath and I hear Dad calling to come in, so I push open the door. Instead of going up to hug him, like I normally would, I have decided to play this a little more humbly.

The moment I walk into the room, I see Dad on a chair in front of his vanity and Papa Leaks pacing the floor beyond their bed. I lower myself to my knees and prostrate my body on the floor, making sure I am in about equal distance between them before getting into position.

“Dad, Papa Leaks. I humbly apologize for my resistance to this process earlier in the week. I have learned that you know what is best for me and this country, and I regret ever having suggested otherwise.” I am sure to keep my tone even and respectful—and honest. I won’t be manufacturing tears for my parents ever again in order to get my way. The days of whining and wheedling are behind me now. 

“Thank you, sweetheart, for telling us so. How very thoughtful and kind,” Dad says. I do not miss that particular term of endearment, however, and my ears twitch suspiciously. That’s what he calls me when he has something unpleasant to discuss. “Please, rise. There is no need for this formality. Your apology is accepted.”

“Have a seat, Konoe,” Papa Leaks says, motioning me to a chair. He pours three glasses of sparkling wine and hands one to me.

“Thank you,” I say, taking the proffered drink. I wait till both my parents are holding one before sampling it.

“Let’s toast to you, my dear,” Dad suggests, holding up his glass. I lift mine and clink it against Papa Leaks’, who in turn clinks the crystal against Dad’s. 

I feel my ears blushing slightly, pleased that I have made both my parents proud. Sipping slowly, I have no reason to get drunk so early in the afternoon. Plus I have come for a specific reason. 

“I’m here to let you know you were right, and I have indeed fallen in love,” I say. I lower my face in a solemn gesture of humility and say, “Thank you for hosting this event. I never would have met my chosen Touga if you had not.”

I wait a few moments and am surprised to hear a long sigh from Dad. It doesn’t sound pleased, and I find that startling. Looking up to examine their faces, I exchange glances with both my parents. Papa looks as though there is an unpleasant taste in his mouth and Dad seems awfully quiet.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t this a good thing?” I ask, unable to keep a strange sense of anxiety from creeping up my spine. "Isn't this what you wanted?" 

“Love is always a good thing, kitten,” Papa Leaks says, his voice quiet. He is watching me but looks occasionally at Dad.

“Wasn’t that the goal? I’ve made my choice. I’ve decided on Rai from Setsura. Isn’t that a good thing?” I am sounding more and more desperate, I realize since this is not the reaction I was expecting from my parents. I thought for sure my announcement would please them.

“It’s a good thing, sweetheart,” Dad says, and he stands up and walks over to my chair. “It seems, however, that there have been complications.”

“What kind of complications?” I ask, my brows furrowing again fearfully.

“While it’s ideal to find a partner you love, what is more important in these competitions is to find a reliable ally,” Papa says. He sounds almost regretful, which frightens me. He also did not answer my question.

“Setsura is a great ally,” I say. “It’s a wealthy country and is filled with large, warrior-like cats who would quickly come to Sisa’s aid!”

“Yes, there are benefits to an alliance with each of the countries who had a Touga representing them,” Dad assures me, resting his arm on my shoulder. “But some alliances are more valuable than others.”  
  
“What do you mean?” I ask, now very anxious.

“What your father is trying to say—as delicately as possible—the choice has already been made for you,” Papa says. His voice is soft and firm—and I _know_ that tone. He is expecting his news will upset me.

“I still don’t understand,” I say, filled with disbelief. “I thought this was _my_ choice!”

“Well, it’s actually  _Sisa’s_ choice,” Dad says. “You are to make a choice based on what is best for _Sisa_.”

“Setsura is the best choice!” I insist, a little louder than I intend.

“Actually, the Meigi proved himself a stronger fighter,” Papa says, his voice soft. "An alliance with his country would assure developing sorcery in a way that we couldn't before."

“And he was kind to you—protected you—from any pain or suffering, didn’t he?” Dad asks. “Your night with him was a treat, don’t you think?”

I feel tears stinging my eyes—and not the manipulative kind. These are tears of _betrayal_. My heart drops into my stomach, as though my feelings are aware and acknowledging this is really happening before my thoughts do.

“I cannot understand what you are both saying,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even and sane despite the terror filling my body. “Are you saying that I _never_ had any choice at all in these entire proceedings? What was the point of putting me through all this if you'd already decided!?” 

“We needed to evaluate your options. And you have to acknowledge, Konoe, that both of us have a better idea of what is best for this country, based on our years of experience,” Papa states. 

“It grieves us to disappoint you,” Dad adds.

“ _Disappoint_?!” I burst.

“Sweetheart, calm down. This will be best if you remain calm and collected.”  
  
“Calm?! You want me to stay calm?! You have both deceived me!”

“We did no such thing,” Papa says. “We said, in the end, a choice would be made and hopefully we’d find the best alliance.”

“No! This is _my_ choice—and has been my _only_ choice over this entire week! I never would have submitted to _any_ of this if I’d known my choice wouldn’t be honored!”

“You would have, Konoe,” Papa agrees, his voice lowered to a growl. “There was a very good reason that we didn’t tell you everything about the process. You were already non-compliant and rebellious enough!” 

I open my mouth to defend myself, but I can’t. He’s right, in a way. If I had known that I wouldn’t have the ability to make my own decision, I would have rebelled and then punished until I was forced to complete the process. I end up closing my mouth.

“I’m sorry we have to disappoint you, sweetheart. But the decision has already been made. All that is left is for you to announce that you have chosen the Meigi.”

A shiver ruffles through my spine and fluffs up my fur. I remember _exactly_ what horrors Nano told me was in store for me, back in Meigi.

“B-but—he d-doesn’t even _want_ me!” I say, tears spilling over and down my cheeks. “He already has another lover— _and_ he told me I would be sold as a _slave_ , my status torn from me—as a rarity. I’ll be auctioned off to some brute who has always wanted the body or blood or power of a royal Sanga!”

“Konoe, he will do _no_ such thing. He will marry you before the week is out. And he will protect you with his life.” Papa has already made the decision, and my fear begins to take over.  
  
“My dear, it’s common in arranged marriages to take a lover. Perhaps you will also be permitted to do the same, once you complete your obligations to him,” Dad suggests helpfully. Obligations? What obligations? To be sold off as a slave to fund the kingdom's research?

“Do you think the man I love will ever agree to this? Of course, Rai will go home to Setsura without an alliance, but he is marketable as well. He will marry someone else! He won’t wait for me to be able to have an affair with him! He deserves better!”

“Konoe, we know how much time you’ve been spending with the Setsuran. It's been so much, in fact, that he has been disqualified. You _can’t_ choose him even if you wanted to.”

My ears flatten.  
  
“But you said—you _both_ said—that it was fine for me to see him on the side, as long as I was discreet!"

“Still, he has been disqualified. Which leaves you to either the Kiran or the Meigi—since they were the best two fighters.”  
  
I can’t even speak for a few moments. I’m filled with fear that is quickly turning to rage. 

“Well, the Kiran actually _loves_ me! He would never see me sold off and auctioned to some abusive asshole like the Meigi imposter!” Is this really happening? My breath quickens and I can't seem to calm down.

“Between Kira and Meigi, the choice is clear. Meigi has more to offer, and we don’t believe he will sell you,” Papa continues. “He has a _very_ good reason to treat you well.”  
  
“What reason would that be?” I ask.

Dad and Papa exchange a glance, and Dad continues, “He knows he would be in trouble with us if he did any such thing, and he’d destroy the ties he built with our kingdom.” 

“Dad, he’s _powerful_! And I don't think you know this, but he’s also a _demon_! I’m not going to choose a demon—especially not who is in love with another! He’d _never_ agree!”  
  
“Oh, he will agree,” Papa says confidently.

“But I still don’t understand why I can’t have Rai! In a few years, Rai and I will be able to fight as powerfully as Nano—”

“No, you won’t,” Papa interrupts. “Calm down and think about it rationally. Nano is a sorcerer as well as a demon. He was a Sanga before he became that demon.”  
  
“How do you know that?” I ask. And suddenly it occurs to me. “Wait—you _knew_ he was a demon when you paired him with me?” I cannot believe it. My parents whored me out to a _demon_ —a blood demon—no, a sex demon!—for the sake of a powerful alliance?! I can’t wrap my mind around it.

“I did,” Papa admits coldly. “But he had reason to treat you well. I was sure he wouldn’t hurt you. He even took care of the imposter who injured you.”

“You knew?” I am flabbergasted. “What _am_ I to you? To _either_ of you?! I thought you _loved_ me! I thought you _cared_ about me!”

“We _do_ love you, sweetheart,” Dad says, stroking my ears. I jump away from his touch. Dad looks wounded that I won’t allow his affection. “But we also care very much about the future of this kingdom. We needed to forge the strongest ally we could for political reasons.”

“He will _never_ agree to this. I saw across our bond how much he loves that other cat,” I say. “This is _never_ going to work. I will choose _Rai_! I don’t _want_ the Meigi! I _refuse_ to allow myself to be sold off at auction!”

Papa sighs deeply, and Dad looks at him and then glances at me. Papa is the next one to speak.

“You need to trust us, Konoe. Sometimes being a prince means doing what is best for your kingdom over what you think is best for yourself.”

“I don’t understand why I had to do _any_ of this if, in the end, the decision was already made for me!” I blurt. I’m really angry—and I will _not_ agree to this. “Plus, I don’t trust that I won’t be sold off the moment the Meigi takes me away from here! Tell me why he is a better match than Rai!”

“I told you to calm yourself. Rai has been disqualified for his excessive, er, fraternization with you out of turn,” Papa declares. “Konoe, we can and will force you to make the decision we want if you will not agree.”

“I do _not_ agree! And you can't make me! You can't come between my love for Rai!” I shout at Papa disrespectfully. “I will not announce my choice of the Meigi!”

Both my parents sigh again heavily.

“I will lose my freedom!”

“You _have_ no freedom, Konoe,” Dad snaps. He so rarely snaps at me that hearing that sharp tone—his Sanga voice—raised in anger makes my fur bristle. “You are born a prince of Sisa and you _will_ do what is best for your country! Honey,” he glances at Papa, “I’m afraid you were right. Why don’t you continue what we discussed earlier.”

Fear covers my heart—covering almost all of my anger in its entirety. What the hell? Do they have a plan to _make_ me obey? And it involves Papa… Shit! Before I can make my escape, my body is restrained by magic. The magical ropes around my ankles trip me, and I catch myself on my hands when I fall to the floor. However, my wrists are bound shortly afterward—I see the smoky colored sashes lashing me in place to the floor.

“Konoe, my son, this is what you will do. You will announce your choice for the position of Touga—and you will announce _Nano_. If you do not agree to this, I will whip you until you come to your senses about your duty to this kingdom!”

“Dad—Papa— _please_!” I beg from my vulnerable position on the floor. I’m scared out of my wits—I can tell Papa is serious!

“As soon as you agree to do what we’ve asked of you, the whipping will stop. Should you, however, simply be paying lip service to what we’ve commanded, and if for some reason you do _not_ announce our choice and decide to announce another, I will not hesitate to repeat this punishment _publicly_ until you recant and do as we’ve asked.”

He can’t be serious! But I can’t—I _won’t_ —give up Rai.

“But I _love_ him!” I yell desperately. “Please—I _love_ him! You _never_ had to do this, Dad! You got to have your love _and_ your wife and you were never forced to—” 

“Don’t you _dare_ speak to me of what I have had to do, Konoe! You have no idea of the sacrifice both of us have made for your sake!” Dad says sharply. I see his boots standing before me and I dare to lift my eyes to his face. Those green eyes glare down at me harshly. “As I’ve said at the beginning of this ritual, I thought I was doing you a favor in giving you as much freedom as you’ve had. But apparently, indulging you has done _nothing_ but turn you into a disobedient _brat_ who will insist on his _selfishness_ over the good of his country! Do your _duty_ , Konoe.”  
  
He turns away and walks to the door. He tosses a disgusted glance at me before he speaks again. Those eyes—looking both disappointed and disgusted—break my heart. I don’t want to displease him, but I simply cannot give up Rai! 

“Fetch me when it’s finished, my love,” he says softly to Papa. “If you knew what was good for you, we could skip the process entirely!” He snaps harshly to me.

“B-but I _love_ him!” I stammer, casting my gaze back to the floor. I know I’m speaking to my dad’s back, however, as he stalks from the room, leaving me alone with Papa.

“I understand your feelings, Konoe,” Papa says. “However, sometimes these things cannot be helped. This is _all_ in your hands. All you have to do is tell me the Meigi is your choice, and we won’t have to go through with this.” 

“I _can’t_!” I cry. “Papa, _please_! You love Dad, don’t you? Surely you understand I can’t simply let him go!” 

“Of course I do. I also know your stubborn temperament and the difficulties you have with submission.”

“But I _have_ submitted—I volunteer to submit my will to _Rai_! Please!”

Papa sighs again, and my body is magically dragged to a backless chair and bent over it. Sobs start spilling from my mouth when I anticipate what is to come—it hasn’t been many days since he spanked me with that hairbrush. My skin is still slightly bruised, and I am frightened. But I can’t deny my feelings, even as my belt is unbuckled and my breeches are lowered to my knees. My underwear follows, leaving me exposed, vulnerable, and humiliated—and terrified.

“Papa—please—I _love_ him!”

“And you can continue loving him, even after your marriage to Nano.” Something strange brushes against my ass—it’s the feeling of several strips of leather, caressing my skin. What is this? Not a whip or a belt or a hairbrush? I try to look over my shoulder, and Papa thoughtfully shows me the implement. It has a short handle and about a dozen slender lashes attached to the end. “We are not saying you have to deny your love. We are saying he has been _disqualified_. You may still find it in your heart to submit to one man while pining for another. And who knows? If Rai loves you enough, he will wait till you can take a lover of your own.” 

“Papa…” 

“This?” He wiggles the strange-looking whip in my face. “This is a martinet. It will become your constant companion until you agree to our terms.”

My hands are bound magically to the chair in front of me, and my legs are spread a little wider than shoulder width apart, my ankles lashed to the legs of the chair. I _hate_ being restrained like this. It’s stifling and suffocating and it makes my helplessness even more obvious!

It occurs to me even before I feel the lashes connecting with my skin that I might not be able to win this fight.

Then, a sharp snap fills the air and multiple lashes connect with my exposed skin. It is fairly quiet, but it lights up the nerves in my ass and thighs, and I let out a soft grunt. This isn’t as bad as my last whipping, I think—I can _do_ this. I will outlast him!

“Remember, my boy, that you have the power to end this anytime,” Papa mutters softly. “I don’t enjoy punishing you. But you leave us with little choice.” 

The second and third time the martinet connects with my skin, I am able to maintain my quiet grunts—but the fourth, my skin is so heated up and my nerves are so excited that a cry slips out. This is actually _much_ worse than I expected—the lashes build up the pain quickly, and since the handle of the whip is short, there is almost no break between blows. 

I quickly lose count of how many times Papa has flogged me, and I am struggling to keep my backside relaxed and submissive. Worse, when I flex my muscles the pain is worse—but I can’t help it. It isn’t more than about three minutes until my voice is letting out a constant wail rather than individual cries.

“Please!” I scream. “You _can’t_ ask me to—” 

“I _have_ asked you—and both your parents have _commanded_ you, Konoe!” Papa Leaks growls. “You know what you have to do to make this stop!” 

I can only tolerate another two minutes with the martinet until my ass feels like it might be seriously damaged.

“ _Okay_! _Please_! Stop! I will agree…”

Papa stops for a moment, and he isn’t even winded. It’s an effective implement since he has to expend so little energy to swing it. Much more effective than a paddle, since it’s so light to wield.

“You agree to our terms?” Papa asks.

I exhale, trying to get my sobbing under control, and I feel his hand stroking my hot skin in what he supposes to be a soothing manner but actually feels intrusive and painful.

“I just… I don’t think I can give up Rai. Papa, I’m _sure_ you understand!”

But he gives me no time to make my case and begins flogging me again—my screams getting louder and louder.

“I can keep this up all day, kitten. You’d best submit your will.”

After another five minutes, I’m ready for a break—and so I try to speak through my tears and sobs and wails. I have difficulty forming words when I am being beaten so severely, however, and it takes some time.

Papa slows the blows but does not stop, making me scream out after each individual slap. Goosebumps travel down my arms and legs and nausea rises in my throat. My claws are drawn and my fangs are bared defensively, even though I can't protect myself.

“Papa, _please_! Stop! I agree!” 

He does stop for a moment, rubbing my sore skin and making my flinch. I’m afraid I will be sick.

“Tell me what you will do, then, kitten.”

“It isn’t that I dislike Nano so much,” I say quietly, still sobbing softly. “He was kind to me. But he told me what would become of me if I were brought to his country. And I _adore_ Rai! I _know_ he will protect me, Papa! And our country! Isn’t that enough?”

Instead of answering, Papa resumes the beating, and I scream even louder. The pain is close to unbearable. 

“How long do you want to do this? It will make the consummation of your marriage uncomfortable if you do not give in soon. That will be embarrassing for you,” Papa says, his voice low.

“Ah! Please—ah—please…” I can barely catch my breath—and I know I am not going to last much longer. “ _Please_!”

My vision is going gray around the edges and even the sound of the martinet slapping against my legs and ass starts to fade into the background. I can’t hear, I can’t see—and I vomit right off the edge of the chair and onto the floor. But the beating does not stop. I realize my father is going to whip me unconscious—just before my consciousness slips away. I think I hear him muttering to himself just before I black out. 

“Stubborn, unrepentant child, just submit!” 

* * *

When I startle awake, I realize something has been placed under my nose. Smelling salts, perhaps? I am terribly confused when I wake, too—disoriented and not in my own room. Where I am? Why can’t I move? My arms refuse to move and I want to stretch, but my legs are bound in place as well. 

“Are you back with me, kitten?” I hear Papa’s voice close to my ear. “This is ridiculous. You need to simply submit to our wishes and you will be freed from this pain and suffering. Is it so much to ask you to do your duty? This is what you were _born_ for! This is why I saved your newborn life!” 

Then, everything comes flooding back to me—including the freshly burning skin on my backside and thighs. He wants me to deny Rai and accept Nano. That’s right. I am finding it hard to breathe.

“Are you prepared to do as we command? We will perform your betrothal at dinner if you are.”

“But Papa—what about what _I_ want? What about the love I have for Rai?” I whisper. “Please… just understand me!”

Suddenly a single blow from that damned implement connects with my ass—precisely at my sit spot. The pain makes me scream and it sets my skin ablaze. Tears spill down my cheeks and disheartened sobs wrack my body.

“Just submit, kitten. Make it easier on yourself.” Papa sounds really upset, actually. Does this mean I have a chance to change his mind?  
  
“Papa—just as you love Dad, I too love Rai! You’d never give him up, would you?”

I hear a soft sigh from behind me. I cannot even move my head to look at him. 

“Kitten, that is not my role. _Your_ role is to submit to your duty. Please. Just tell me you will announce your choice as the Meigi at dinner tonight and we can stop this ridiculousness.” 

“I can’t, Papa. I _love_ him—ah!” My sentence is harshly interrupted with renewed flogging, and it takes my breath away. “Please!”

“I will punish you until you accept our terms, kitten. You should submit now before you lose consciousness again. I will wake you forcefully once more should your consciousness slip away.”

He doesn’t sound tired at all—and my skin surely can’t take anymore.

“All _right_!” I scream between sobs. “I will _do_ it!” And as soon as those words escape my mouth, I can no longer speak. My heart is broken. I have betrayed my love for Rai for the sake of my person.  I am filled with grief.

“Tell me what you will do, then.”

“I will, um, announce my decision for the Meigi Touga,” I whimper softly.

“You will agree to partake in the betrothal ceremony?”

“I don’t know what that is,” I murmur.

“All you have to do is follow my instructions. Basically, your betrothal implies that your father and will be handing over your life to the Meigi—along with all that entails.”

A small shiver creeps up my spine.

“You will be expected to offer your submission to us, thank us for your care, and then offer your submission to the Meigi.”

“Whatever you command,” I say—my voice is toneless and my body is aching. More submission? Just because I'm a Sanga? I hate my life!

“Konoe, I don’t like to force you to do this. I know the Meigi will be kind to you because it is in our best interests.”

I nod, keeping silent.

“If you do not do as you have promised, I will punish you publicly until you recant and obey. That will be in front of _all_ the remaining Tougas—including the one who has been disqualified. Think carefully about how much he would prefer to avoid such a scene—especially with your skin as damaged as it is now. It will only pain everyone watching, not to mention yourself, and it will not ingratiate you toward your future spouse.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper. I can picture myself being beaten senseless in front of the room of princes. What would they think of me? I can't imagine a bigger humiliation!

“I will fetch your staff to care for you now.”  
  
My wrist and ankles are released from their restraints, but I am so sore I can hardly move. I don’t think even the imposter hurt me so much! That implement is my new least favorite.

“I’m pleased with you, my son, and you have made your dad proud, too,” Papa says, rubbing my ears, which I quickly flatten against my skull. “I knew I could make you see reason.”

He walks to the door and speaks quietly to someone outside—there has probably been at least a handful of servants who have just heard what has happened in here. I hope to the gods that I can see and explain to Rai what has happened before dinner and before he hears the gossip. 

In short order, one of the soldiers enters the room. I see his uniformed boots before my eyes as he stops in front of me—I am still exposed, of course, my body displayed indecently. Papa orders him to take me to my chambers to be cared for. I am scooped up—and a whimper escapes when I feel the soldier’s hands brush against my burning skin.

I can only hope that Rai is still waiting for me there. I have to tell him what is going on. I can't let him find out at dinner!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After spending an enjoyable morning and lunch with Rai, Konoe heads to his parents' chamber to let them know he's made his decision.
> 
> He starts humbly, apologizing for the resistance he's shown and is delighted to announce his decision. He is looking forward to his newfound love and freedom that is surely awaiting him with Rai.
> 
> However, it seems there are some things his parents haven't told him about who exactly makes the choice of a Touga. It turns out that Konoe's choice will not be accepted, and instead, he is expected to choose Nano of Meigi.
> 
> His parents don't really explain why. They just inform him Rai has been disqualified for "fraternizing" with Konoe outside of his turn, and that the Meigi is the best choice for the country. He should do his duty and accept it. He is expected to announce his decision for the Meigi at dinner, and a short betrothal ceremony will follow.
> 
> Konoe does not agree or submit--he can't discard Rai so easily. And he feels angry and betrayed by his parents. They point out that he would have rebelled even more had he known that the choice in Touga would not be up to him, and Konoe can't disagree. But Shui leaves him to Leaks, who says he will beat him till he complies.
> 
> Leaks uses a martinet (a kind of flogger) to beat him unconscious. He proceeds to wake Konoe up to beat him some more, and finally, Konoe has to submit. He's devastated. But he agrees to do as he is told, lest he is punished again--and publicly--for announcing another choice.
> 
> Konoe is left to a soldier and carried back to his room, desperately hoping he will be able to talk to Rai about this... betrayal.


	27. The Unbonded Sanga's Last Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this final chapter, Konoe makes his last stand in order to get what he wants. He gets the idea to defy his parents and hopefully sing for his chosen Touga during dinner. Surely, he thinks, his parents won't be able to overpower true love. They will have to soften their hearts and let their beloved son choose his rightful master.
> 
> Needless to say, things don't go as planned.
> 
> Triggers: public humiliation and public whipping.

To my dismay, Rai is no longer in my quarters when I arrive. I know he can hear my voice within the palace, so I wonder if he knows my conversation didn’t go as well as I'd hoped.  I hope he understands, but how do I dare hope that? I’m about to _betray_ him for the good of my kingdom. My staff is waiting—and horrified by my appearance—when the soldier drops me off to be dressed and bathed.

I’m terrified of what will happen this evening. Not even my staff can soothe me. Jacques helps me into the bathing chamber, though the _last_ thing I want is a bath. I want to let my wounds heal first, but he insists.

“Sire, we have to clean up your injuries!”

I know he is dying to ask what happened, and he looks at me with such pity. I’m not sure I can tell him. Though after screaming and crying when the soap touches my injured skin, I feel like we have bonded in a way we never have before.

“Sire, I’m so sorry. What on earth happened?”

Once I’m able to speak, I open my mouth, unsure of what to say at first. But then, words start to spill from my mouth in a long sob.

“My mate has been chosen _for_ me! I’ve gone through all this with the expectation that, at the end of it all, _I_ would have a choice. I would be _permitted_ to choose. Yet my parents disqualified my choice!”

Jacques looks at me with horror.

“Who have your parents chosen?”  
  
“They want to marry me off to the Meigi—and if I do that, I will be auctioned off to the highest bidder once we return to his lands! Those are his orders. He loves someone else and will _never_ choose me over him. I will lose my status and someone even more cruel will own me! Someone like… Shiki.” I can’t control my tears.

“But, sire, don’t you _still_ have the ability to choose who you want? What’s to keep you from announcing your choice at dinner? Even your parents can’t keep you from speaking your heart’s desire. You have to acknowledge your choice publicly! Why not simply announce your candidate at dinner?”

“Papa said he will punish me if I defy him.”  
  
“Ah—but will your chosen one let that happen? _Sing_ for him! Together—you and your Touga—can overcome your parents,” Jacques says.

“But if he’s disqualified…”

“He hasn’t been disqualified  _yet_ , has he? So do it. Follow your heart.”  
  
I listen to his words carefully. And yes, I may be humiliated. But my parents can’t _make_ me do anything. My parents can’t force me into a marriage I don’t want—well, they can, but if they want my consent, it will be hard to get it.

I will be risking a public punishment. Papa won't hesitate to strip me, restrain me, and beat me if I disobey. He’s promised me as much. But even _he_ can’t keep me from singing. If Rai will take up arms on my behalf, surely we will win!

“This is your _betrothal_ , Your Grace,” Jacques continues. “You should do everything you can to stay with the person you love.”

After the week I have had—with Shiki, Bardo, and the various beatings I’ve suffered because of my attitude and my actions—I can’t imagine it will get much worse. And if it does, so be it— _anything_ so I can be with Rai.

I would suffer _anything_ for his sake.

Jacques helps me back out to my room, and I crumple down in my bed.

“Sire, we should get you dressed…”  
  
“I just want to rest first. Please.”

“All right. Just for a little while.”

I drift off into an uneasy and exhausted sleep until Jacques wakes me again to get me dressed for dinner. We have to rush through preparations, but I really needed the sleep. 

* * *

Standing in front of the mirror, I look quite attractive and very much the part of the prince. My eyes aren’t swollen and my welts are covered. I’m dressed in an ivory outfit, trimmed with gold that accents my eyes and the tips of my ears and tail. My fur is pristine and perfectly groomed, and my hair is plaited in a simple braid. I’m wearing an elegant and understated gold circlet on my head, and my mouth is set in a hard line. I have decided what I will do, and submission to my parents is _not_ in my plans.

I know Papa wants access to the magic of the Meigi—but he’s going to have to find another way to get it. Marriage to the Meigi is not my choice. I wouldn’t have suffered through this week and found the cat I want to love for the rest of my life if it were. It’s simply cruel to dangle the hopes of love in front of my face only to take it away again. It’s too cruel, even for my parents.  
  
Certainly, as soon as both my parents see how serious I am about Rai they will be moved—to tears, I hope, since Papa has already punished me so severely—and allow me to choose the person I want for my spouse. I am _sure_ that Dad chose Leaks out of love. They wouldn’t let me deny my own true love for the sake of duty or anything else!

There’s a brisk knock at the door and my door is unlocked from the outside. (I hadn’t realized I’d been locked in. Perhaps they were expecting me to make an escape?) Both my parents come in, and Dad looks me over from the tips of my ears to my tail.

“Perfect, my darling. You look wonderful. Surely, the Tougas you refuse will bring this image of you home with them and have their hearts satisfied.”

Papa doesn’t say anything. He is standing still with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He looks at me suspiciously. To my dismay, I see that he has a whip attached to his hip as well as that martinet. It looks like he is expecting me to resist. Also, he is holding something that looks like jewelry in his hand.

“As long as you remember what I told you and do what you have promised,” Papa says menacingly. “Before we head to the dining room, however, come over here for a moment.”

I do as he asks, and he slips a gold collar on my neck. It’s quite plain—just a simple gold collar. I wonder if this is an ancient garb that Sangas wear for betrothal. However, as soon as it locks around my neck like a choker, it makes my body feel faintly heavy. I am much slower—I wonder if it’s imbued with magic.  

“What’s this?” I ask, flashing my eyes at Papa nervously.

“This is simply insurance for your father and me,” Papa says.

“It’s imbued with magic?” I ask softly, touching the collar.

“It is. It's traditional to, um, have an unbonded Sanga wear this piece of jewelry for his betrothal. It will… um, keep things from getting out of control,” Papa says. "It looks beautiful on you, my son."

They each take one of my arms, one on either side of me, and lead me to the dining room. I steel myself before the doors open, hearing my pulse beat loudly in my ears. My heart flutters in my chest when we arrive—and I am brought up to the dais to eat with them today.

I am not very hungry. My nerves have gotten the better of me. Rai is staring at me—watching my limping gait—as though he knows I have been punished. He looks apprehensive. The other Tougas are relaxed and enjoying their meal—except for the Meigi who looks mostly uninterested.

When I take a closer look at Nano—he is in his cat form, of course—he isn’t a bad-looking cat. There is something slightly similar between him and Papa Leaks. It must be his pale skin—but even the shape of his ears are reminiscent of my Papa. Maybe this is a typical Meigi thing—but I find it odd. He’s quite attractive, I think. And he _was_ kind to me. But I cannot choose him, no matter what. He loves another and I refuse to play second fiddle for the rest of my life.

Plus, the fact that my parents are forcing me to choose someone other than the man I love makes me resist him even more.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dad murmurs. “You hardly ate a bite.”

“I’m not very hungry,” I say, my voice a little sulky. Of course, I didn't eat anything! I'm nervous. Dad sounds surprised, as though my lack of appetite is unusual when my actions make perfect sense.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You look gorgeous. Go ahead and make the announcement. Be sure you thank the others for attending the event and for looking after you so well.”

I drag myself to my feet—and even my feet are moving strangely heavily, my pulse throbbing in my ears, and the room gets very quiet. In addition to the Tougas, I just now notice that the cats of the court are also eating at long banquet tables in the back of the room. I had no _idea_ how public this announcement would be, and I have second thoughts for a moment when I look back at Papa, whose face is set in a severe expression.

But then, I glance out in the crowd and I see my silver Touga smiling brightly and encouragingly. He still looks nervous, but his smile warms my heart and gives me the boost of confidence I need to pull this off. I won’t let him down.

“Dear subjects and my honored guest Tougas,” I begin formally. “Thank you so much for attending this sacred ritual. I’d like to thank all the Tougas for taking such good care of me and treating me with such kindness throughout the week.” My eyes linger on Rai for a moment. “I’m pleased to announce that I have made my choice. Before I announce it, however, please know that I am indebted to each and every one of you and your countries for sending you to Sisa. I know it was a long and grueling journey for you. I’d like to maintain friendly relations with all of your countries, even if I don’t choose you. I hope you will keep me in your hearts and minds.”

I wait a few moments and lick my lips, resisting the temptation to glance at my parents.

“I’m thrilled to announce my choice and my desire to be betrothed to the Touga of Setsura, Rai.”

There is quite a commotion when I make the announcement, and I am smiling brightly at Rai—but my ear is suddenly grabbed harshly, making me yelp in pain. It shocks me that Papa would even interrupt my speech. I manage to shoot a desperate look to the silver cat, hoping he will understand that I am about to sing for him.

“You _really_ want to do this the hard way? You spoiled _brat_! Don't say I didn't warn you,” Papa grumbles under his breath. He is dragging me back toward the table by my ear and I hear Dad make an announcement.

“Unfortunately, while our son’s _first_ choice is indeed a good one—and Rai, thank you for treating him with such care—he has been disqualified from the proceedings for not following the rules.”

Another commotion—a ruckus from the crowd—and I can hear a chair scraping across the floor. I have a guess this is Rai's chair, pushing away from the table so he can stand.

When Papa pushes my torso flat against the table and restrains my wrists with magic, so my ass is facing the crowd, I start to get really worried. _Now_ would be the time to sing with all my might—and so I look deep inside myself to pull out my song. I feel anger and rage boiling up inside me, mixing with the vulnerability and helplessness I feel, a soft melody begins to flow within my body—but it doesn’t get louder, nor does it spill forth. For some reason, my song is trapped within my body and only a tiny fraction spills out, like a whisper. This has _never_ happened before, but it reminds me a little of when I tried to sing for Shiki in the arena and he choked me.

I start to panic—especially when the collar around my neck heats up. I touch it with my fingers and it singes them. I can feel the heat from the collar burning my throat. I meow in pain. Is it the collar that is preventing my song from escaping? I feel trapped within my own skin and claustrophobia floods my body. But Papa doesn't stop. My ears twitch when my belt and pants are unbuckled and unbuttoned, and my ears burn with shame when a cool breeze caresses my already wounded bare skin and thighs.

“Dig your claws into the table, kitten. When you’re ready to announce your _true_ choice, the punishment will stop. For your own sake, do submit quickly. I’m sure you’re mortified. I don't know when the last time was that the court was witnessed to a rebellious prince, and this is surely going down in Sisa's history!”

“Please pardon us while we get our belligerent and unrepentant son under control,” Dad says charmingly. "He hasn't taken well to the news of the Setsuran's disqualification."

The martinet swishes through the air, and before it even connects, a small whine escapes my mouth. It is going to hurt so much more than the last beating since my skin is in such terrible condition. I scream when it connects, my entire body trying to stiffen and my tail bristling painfully.

It’s not even two strikes before I am screaming, and I hear Papa growl at the audience, “Sit down and shut up! You are _guests_ here and have no right to interfere,” sharply, and he waves his hand for a moment. I remain restrained against the table and I hear several muffled protests from the crowd. I can’t see what is happening and I still cannot sing. My plans—for singing to Rai and escaping—have utterly failed, and instead, I am suffering the humiliation of a beating in front of the entire court. Still, I hang on as long as possible.

I am breathless with tears and sobs by the time Papa gets to the tenth stroke and I stop counting, grinding my teeth and trying to suppress my cries.

“Please—ah!” I beg. “Please—ah—it’s enough!” I don’t think my body can take anymore, and Papa stops for a moment. He keeps me pinned against the table, my head turned to the side, tears dripping down my face.

“Will you comply? Tell me,” Papa growls in my ear. “Tell me, who is your choice?”  
  
“Rai!” I burst out in desperation. “I _love_ him!”

Before I even finish, Papa continues the beating—aiming at my thighs now. It’s even more painful, since I have less padding there—and I am both mortified and sickened. It only occurs to me now that I may not be able to resist.  

“Please! Dad!”

“Konoe, you know what you have to do,” Dad brushes my ears lightly, and I flatten them against my head painfully. “Make the announcement that will best suit your kingdom."  
  
“Selfish child,” Papa says in a low voice. “Do your _duty_!”

“ _Please_ —all right! Please!” I beg.

“Which Touga do you choose?” Papa growls into my ear. 

“Make the _right_ choice, my son,” Dad says, still touching my ears—as though that will soothe the pain Papa is causing. I feel like his touch is a betrayal. They have never loved me. They've only ever seen me as a tool for Sisa!

“I’ll do as you ask,” I murmur. I have given up.

Papa pulls up my breeches quickly, making me flinch in pain when the fabric of my underwear touches my burning skin. My clothes are in disarray, my fine shirt hanging outside of my fancy breeches. I must look a mess.

He pulls me up to stand and lifts up my chin to face the crowd.

Only now does it really sink in how many people have just watched that spectacle—and even after all this, I am forced to do as my parents want!

“Please,” I whisper once more. “Please don’t make me do this.” 

My ears is pinched, and I squeal in pain.

“Okay! I will! I will!” I squawk in desperation.

“Go ahead.”  
  
“We apologize for the spectacle,” Dad says. “Our beloved prince really _does_ want to do what is best for his country. Please forgive him his selfishness and momentary lapse in judgment.”  
  
As I look out at the crowd, an icy blue gaze holds my eyes—that's when I notice that my silver Touga is restrained. Black sashes bind him to his chair, his wrists behind his back, his ankles strapped to the legs of the chair. I’m shocked. When I bring my gaze to Asato, he is bound in a similar fashion. Tokino won’t look up, but he is sitting in the chair, discouraged, his face focused on my feet. Nano is looking at the spectacle with a certain degree of confusion. 

“The Meigi,” I whisper.

“Louder, sweetheart.” My ear is pinched again, hard.

“I choose the Meigi,” I repeat, slightly louder, lowering my face.

Another commotion follows and I look up, seeing a crowd form around Nano, whose expression has been neutral and uncaring up till now, though he shows a bit more surprise and he looks even more confused.

“Congratulations, Nano,” Papa says. “Would you please approach?" 

Nano sweeps up out of his chair—moving in that delicate, willowy way he has, almost like he isn’t touching the floor, it seems, and I feel sick to my stomach. I'm about to be betrothed to a demon! His head is cocked to the side slightly, indicating his uncertainty.

I cannot even look at Rai at this point. Tears spill down my face and I am sobbing silently. My ears is pinched a little harder, and I hear Dad whisper, “Pull yourself together, sweetheart. You’re doing this for the good of your kingdom. This is nothing more than your _duty_.” In a louder voice, Dad tells me to kneel. I obey his command, dropping my disheveled self down to my knees on the dais. I keep my face pointed at the floor, and my ears are lowered submissively and my tail lashes back and forth.

Papa starts talking, and his voice sounds strange, like it’s being filtered through a tunnel. 

“Nano of the Meigi, please join us on the dais.”

I hear Papa’s voice chattering on, in his low, addressing-the-masses tone, filled with authority. I feel as though my heart is resting in his hand and he is closing his fist around it, making my chest strain painfully. I remain right where I am, however, despite the pain, simply flattening my ears to my skull miserably. 

Lifting my gaze for just a moment, I glance at Nano. His ears are strangely perked up toward my father—like a normal cat would do. It looks out of character since he doesn’t usually move his ears or tail as a Ribika would. He still looks a bit dubious, but he doesn’t speak. Papa is still talking and I miss a bunch of what he says.

“… thank you for taking part in this ritual to find our son a Touga who will protect him with his life and an alliance for our kingdom. He’s chosen you, Nano, for that honor. Please.”

Both Dad and Papa bow their heads to Nano. I can’t even watch. I see something in my father’s hand—and a shudder goes down my spine when I realize it’s the flogger he just used on me. With his head still bowed, he holds the martinet in both hands and offers it to Nano. 

“From now until the day of his death, we offer up our son to your care. We expect you to take good care of him, and we hand his discipline over to you. Train him up to the great Sanga we know he will become.”  
  
To my horror, I see my father handing off the flogger to Nano, who accepts it with a confused look. Is my "discipline" what is really being sold in this transaction? Nano has been given complete dominion over me.

“Konoe, please demonstrate your submission to this cat,” Papa says.

I’m already on my knees, so I glance up at my parents, unsure of what to do.

“Sweetheart, expose your neck and throat to him, please,” Dad whispers.

Compliantly, I do as I am asked, and I see my father nod at Nano.

“Your domination of him will indicate your acceptance of this betrothal,” Papa says. "He gives himself willingly, to the best of his ability."

Nano leans down and nips my throat lightly, grasping the scruff at the base of my neck. An incredible sense of powerlessness rushes through my body when my scruff is grabbed even in that gentle way—and I sink into the touch as my body submits. I'm _terrified_. A few more tears spill down my face, and Nano looks down at me and wipes them from my cheeks.

“Thank you. Welcome to the family, Nano of the Meigi. Please let us be the first to wish you happiness in this union.”

Papa raises his hands to the court, who for the most part, break out in applause. There are several cats who are not applauding, however—including my silver cat. Well, he can't, since his hands are restrained, and he’s no longer _my_ silver cat. The collar around my neck feels tight and stifling, my song burning just beneath my skin. It feels like I might explode.

“Please stay for the celebration. Eat, drink, dance, and be merry,” Dad says. He sounds utterly relieved. Nano acts as though he doesn’t quite know what to do with the flogger he’s just been given. He just sort of looks at it in that confused way. Perhaps he’s astounded. I can only pray to Ribika that he will never use it on me.

Still on my knees with Nano standing in front of me, staring down at me, I whisper desperately, “May I please be excused?”

“Of _course_ not,” Dad snaps. “This is the celebration of your betrothal and Sisa's new relationship with the Meigi. It’s a _joyous_ occasion. You will join Nano for dancing.”

Sweeping my eyes across the room, I meet Rai’s gaze, and sadness shoots through my heart. I’m devastated—but when I see his expression and think of how betrayed he must feel, my devastation actually spills over into tears. 

“Konoe,” Papa growls. “Stop this now. Do you need me to remove the silver cat from the hall so you can properly do your duty and pay respect to your new Touga and master?”

My _master_? I look up at Nano curiously, and he looks just as confused as I do.

“ _Stop_ these ridiculous, selfish tears,” Papa says, “or I will _give_ you something to cry about.” 

Frightened by the threat, I do my best, and Nano pulls me to my feet. I keep my distance as much as possible, trying not to touch him or invade his space. I don’t dare glance at Rai again for the rest of the evening. I do the minimum required, which is to take part in a single dance with my new “master" and even then, I keep my distance. All I want is to get out of here and collect myself. At the earliest convenience, I sneak out of the ballroom and head back to my chamber—alone. I’m embarrassed for having been whipped in front of the entire court, and I’m devastated that I couldn’t bring myself to speak to Rai. I’m ashamed that I let my parents force me into a relationship other than the one I desired, and I’m pissed at Nano for not refusing me.

He didn’t look like he knew what was going on, either. I’d call his demeanor _astounded_. But he didn’t speak to me or soothe me at all—and that frightens me. As though he might be angry with me—I don’t know what to do. The last thing I want is another Meigi Touga angry with me, especially one I know is really a demon!

As soon as I’m back in my room, I strip out of my fancy clothes, which have become quite disheveled since I was stripped publicly and humiliated in front of the court—and I have to stop my thoughts from going any further. It’s too embarrassing—too mortifying—and I just don’t want to think about it anymore. Once naked, I slip on my silk pajama top, leaving my tender, bruised skin open to the air. I am too depressed to treat my skin, however. I crawl into my familiar bed—and my chest aches when I smell Rai’s comforting scent lingering in the sheets. I leave the covers off so my skin can breathe. It’s still hot and raw and welted. It isn’t until I get into bed that I realize the degree of my depression. My heart hurts and I want to sing to get my feelings out, but the song simply buzzes under the surface of my skin, making me uncomfortably itchy. I can’t take the damned collar off to free my song. 

I cannot believe that I made it through the week, only to have a new, unwanted destiny foisted upon me. I start sobbing when I think about what is to come—surely Nano was not joking about the auction? Nano will certainly do as his kingdom expects so he can be with the cat he truly loves. Sure, Sisa may have a new ally, but what is to become of _me_? I feel doomed to a broken heart.  
  
One thing I know for certain: Rai will _never_ speak to me again. I saw the hurt in his eyes and in his expression. I’ve wounded him by not being strong enough to hold out against my parents’ will. He must surely think I don’t love him—at least, not enough to defy what my parents have planned for me. 

In a way, he’s right to believe that. I would believe the same, were I in his position—and I feel like such a liar. Now that I’m alone, I just allow myself to indulge in my grief and tears, and I eventually cry myself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. That's the final chapter, dear readers, of this fiction. Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out Nicole_Premier's story, The Devil and the Touga, and expect a new series to start soon, during which we will explore Konoe's impending marriage and his alliance with the Meigi.
> 
> And OMFG go play the lottery today! I actually finished a fic!! (I am terribly out of sorts about it, too.)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Devil and the Touga](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150078) by [Nicole Premier (MistressArachnia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressArachnia/pseuds/Nicole%20Premier)
  * [The Sanga and the Devil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323685) by [Nicole Premier (MistressArachnia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressArachnia/pseuds/Nicole%20Premier), [SonicoSenpai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai)




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